Just Short of Surreal
by SeraphStar
Summary: It's sophomore year and, with the talent show in February, the gang is raring to go...after a slightly rocky start, of course. Woohoo. And the finale. All Pau.
1. Starting Over Sophomore: Yuri

**AN: **Standard disclaimer applies. I don't own Sky High, Tenchi Muyo, or McDonalds. Each chapter will be in one of four P.O.V.s. Yuri (the OFC), Layla, Will, and Warren. It will say who's P.O.V. it is at the beginning of each chapter so as to avoid confusion.

Top Notes:

1. Ryoko is a space pirate demon from the anime Tenchi Muyo. She was created by a genius mad scientist and was imprisoned in a shrine for 700 years. After being released, she fell in love with the main character, Tenchi. She flies, phases through solid objects, teleports, and wields both laser-energy blasts and a laser-energy sword.

In my version, Ryoko is the original character's great-grandmother. As her power did not pass onto her children, it was thought to not be in the transferred DNA. Ryoko is called 'Aunt' because she feels 'grandma' and older make her feel ancient.

2. _Kanji_ are Chinese characters used in Japanese writing. They are part of the Japanese written language.

Rewrites of chapters one through six are in progress. During this time, all but the rewritten chapters will be taken down, to be reposted after the rewrite is complete.

Enjoy and please review.

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**Starting Over Sophomore: Yuri**

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I sauntered into the mad science lab, third period, on the first day of junior year, dropped my things, and turned to my assigned lab partner. As was my custom, I said, in a parrot imitation, "Hello Oreo" and smiled. Not such a good idea, as it turned out, since she ended up staring at me like she wondered if I had mistaken the school bus for the shuttle to the mental hospital.

After a few moments' worth of silence, I sighed, blowing my hair out of my face and wishing I'd remembered a rubber band. "Okay, sorry, start over. Hi, my name's Sayuri, Sayuri Yoshimi." So saying, I held out a hand to shake.

My lab partner looked at me for another second before smiling, "Um, hi. I'm Layla. I'm a phytokinetic." The red-head took my hand and we shook.

"That's cool, controlling plant life," I mused, pulling a spiral notebook with stickers like "ABUNAI!" and "Death by Golf Cart!" out of my chocolate corduroy tote; gifts from friends, what can I say. "I fly, phase through walls, and use laser beams…well, the laser beams are only sometimes. Actually, I'm not very good at controlling them yet. In fact, I sort of suck," I began talking to myself, chewing on my lower lip.

"I'm sure you'll get better." Layla busied herself with readying her things for class. "So, who did you get your powers from?"

"Oh. Um…you see." I took a deep breath and rolled my eyes, "Well, my parents are actually kind of _normal_. It's my _Aunt_ that's a super person. And I hardly ever see her. I visited their farm this summer for the first time in years, she's, well she's actually a space pirate and she's not exactly my aunt, I'm not quite sure how we're related. Like…she's a registered Hero now, in Japan, but she's actually demon created by a mad scientist who…" I trailed off at the look of confusion on Layla's face. "Um…Ryoko(1)?" I offered weakly.

Realization dawned. "Oh," Layla smiled. "Yeah, we covered that whole…epic last year in Hero History. I see where you get the yellow cat eyes."

"Yeah. I've been wearing tinted contact lenses most of my life to hide them." I pointed to my eyes. "But now," I smiled, "no more."

"So…I've never seen you around before…" Layla prompted.

"Yeah. Like I said, I was visiting the farm and my aunt noticed I'd inherited some interesting genetic traits, so she called here right away. My apps had to be rushed and Aunt Ryoko tutored me in as much stuff as possible; I'm still behind a grade," I smiled weakly and shrugged. "But what can you do?"

"Well, I'm sure you'll catch up fast. I mean, as long as you don't bomb out in P.E." Layla sighed. "Hey, why aren't you in Hero class? I mean, if you have Ryoko's powers, wouldn't that be enough?"

I smiled sheepishly again. "I missed power placement. I forgot about the time difference between Japan and here so I totally missed the first day of school."

"Ouch," Layla winced. "Don't worry. It's not like labels matter anyway."

I opened her mouth to reply that, at my old high school, I was something of a geek _anyway_ when Dr. Medulla walked into the lab.

"Good morning class. I trust you've all had an eventful summer. Regrettably for you, we must resume our foray into the world of Mad Science. I am passing out a cumulative review of the topics covered last year so we'll all be on the same frequency when I begin my teaching." As he spoke, he handed out test booklets to the front rows of the class, motioning for them to 'take one and pass it back.' "You will have the whole class period, meaning exactly fifty-five minutes, so use the time wisely. You may begin."

I stared down at the sheet of fifty-odd questions in front of me and sighed. _Assuming that you are building a transmutator ray, which of the following parts will give you the most efficient end product?_ I scanned the list of do-dads and whatchamacalits before muttering a few choice curses under my breath and picking up my pencil.

When the lunch bell rang, the students filed out of the lab quickly, intent on getting to the (safety of the?) cafeteria where food was for sale and friends were gathered. Translation: there were so many damned people in that hall that a can of sardines would seem roomy.

I hurriedly tapped Layla on the shoulder, simultaneously attempting to keep on my feet while being jostled by the crowd. "Hey, are we allowed off campus during lunch?"

Moving to the side, Layla paused, "I'm not sure."

I thought for a good long while, well, as long as one can while going against the raging hordes, before making up my mind. "I'm gonna chance it. Do you want anything from McDonald's?"

Layla shook her head. "I'm a vegetarian."

"Oh. Okay, I'll see you later," I leaned against the wall, preparing to leave.

"Hey," Layla stopped me. "There'll be no space in the cafe when you get back. Look for me, I'll save you a seat."

I looked around at the crowd and realized she was totally right. With a wave and a "Thanks!" I made sure no one was watching and melted into the wall.

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Smuggling the bag of French fries and chicken nuggets in my tote, I carefully phased into an empty bathroom stall and made a beeline for the cafeteria. Empty halls meant quick arrival. 

Upon entering the din, I realized that Layla had been right. The place was packed. Standing on my tip toes, cursing my genes for petite-ness, I searched for Layla's lime-green sweater. Getting fed up with the ruckus and not seeing anyone familiar, I was about to turn and leave when someone called my name. I turned to see Layla waving me over from the other side of the madhouse. Waving and pivoting on my heels, I headed for their table.

Layla, a guy I might refer to as a 'jock', a punky girl, Surly-With-Attitude, Mr. Hip-Hop, and a skinny kid with glasses who could only be termed a 'geek' were all, seemingly, sitting together. 'The Odd Couple' popped into my head. But, settling down on the edge next to the kid with glasses, I waved hello to everyone while rummaging in my bag for my lunch.

Layla motioned vaguely at me, "Guys, this is Sayuri. She's my lab partner this year."

The guy sitting across from her smiled. "Hey, I'm Will Stronghold. I'm, uh…super strong…and I fly." Aha, the prodigal son. Meaning that this was the group of 'misfits' that had saved the school the previous year. The world was right again. Not that I'm against inter-clique mingling, but this was quite extreme.

Ms. Punk, she had awesome purple streaks in her hair, looked over at me. "Magenta. I shapeshift into a guinea pig," she stated, briefly nodding in my direction before going back to her, what I assumed was, math homework. Of course, I hadn't had math yet that day and it might have been some sort of engineering instead.

Layla kicked Surly under the table. "Ow!" He glared at her. Looking extremely put-off, he rolled his eyes and turned his head in one smooth motion, staring pointedly at 'new girl.' Aww gee, I felt so honored to have the man boring holes into my skull. "Warren Peace." He then turned back to whatever he'd been doing. I could have giggled; it was so 'resident rebel.'

"Well, I'm Ethan," said kid with glasses sitting next to me. He held out his hand and we shook. "I melt into a puddle."

"Yo, I'm Zach and I- _French fries!_" Hip-Hop exclaimed in mid-sentence, glee emanating from him as he started to give off a faint yellow-green light. "Dude, can I have one?"

I couldn't help a slow smile. "Sure." I handed him the bag, looking over at everyone. "Um, I'm Sayuri, most people call me Yuri, and I inherited my powers from my Aunt Ryoko, the space pirate-demon."

Everyone nodded to show they knew who I was talking about, thank God because I hate explaining it, and continued with their lunch. I opened my cardboard box of chicken nuggets and started searching the myriad contents of my tote for the sweet 'n sour sauce.

"So, I assume you're Japanese?" Ethan asked after I'd settled down with my chicken nuggets.

"Yeah, full," I replied, peeling the silly plastic foil from the sauce container. "Well, except for the part which is alien on account of my Aunt. But…okay she's not really my _Aunt_, I don't know how we're related exactly, but…" I realized I was getting off-topic and apologized as I tend to talk a lot. "Yeah, I'm Japanese."

"Fascinating; so, what does your name mean? We got our History research assignments and my country is Japan so I'd like to get some first-hand accounts," he explained.

"It's 'Little Lily'; and something of a curse as you can see by my shortness," I smiled, standing briefly. "The 'sa' is part of _chiisai_, which means small and the 'yuri' means lily. You write it like this." I took out my notebook and flipped it over to the back where yet another sticker was pasted, this time with the Japanese characters of my name.

"Interesting, do each of the symbols have a different meaning?" Ethan inquired politely.

"Yeah," I was about to explain the meaning of each different _kanji(_2) when someone across the table spoke.

"_Ni bai he_."

Ethan and I looked over to see Surly giving my notebook a sidelong glance. "What?"

He did the head turn again and gave me an are-you-stupid-or-what look. "_Ni. Bai. He_." When I continued to look confused, he sighed. "It's Small Lily in Chinese."

"Oh." I looked from Surly, _Warren_, his name is Warren, to my notebook. "Really? Cool." I was pretty much the only Asian at my last school. "Are you Chinese?"

Sur- Warren's jaw twitched. "Yeah." This seemed to signal the end of the conversation as he returned his attention to his own notebook and the mysterious goings-on that happened within. Or maybe he was just studying up for Calculus or whatever. Still, with brooding males, you could never tell.

"Did I say something wrong?" I whispered, concerned, to Ethan.

The bespectacled boy shook his head. "He's just like that sometimes. You get used to it."

"Yeah," Zach added around a mouthful of…well, it _looked_ like a hamburger, but with cafeteria food, you have to be on your guard. "Like this one time, last year, Will mphf-"

"Please excuse him," Magenta sighed, covering his mouth (eew, with all the food chunks in there?). "Sometimes my boyfriend says embarrassing things he shouldn't. Just…don't get on his bad side before you get to know him." She smiled sweetly in Warren's direction.

He smiled unconvincingly back before glowering at her.

"Warren!" Layla kicked him again. "Be nice."

"Stronghold," he threatened to the unfortunate Will, sitting next to him, "keep your girlfriend under control."

Will shook his head, laughing. "Hey, I'm not getting you out of this one. And it _is_ your fault, you know."

Warren grumbled, clearly defeated.

I had to laugh. No matter where you go, friends will be friends. High school will be high school. And as far as this one was concerned, it looked pretty good.

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Thank you very much for reading. I'm sorry the chapter is rather short, even after two revisions. :sigh: I promise the next one will be longer and better. It's in Warren's P.O.V. so watch out! 

Love, SeraphStar


	2. Reaction, Reconsider: Warren

-1**AN: **Warren is actually really fun to write. In his head. I don't know if it's in character or not, but I suspect Warren would talk to himself a lot since he doesn't talk to anyone else very much. I like the idea of him saying all this stuff in his head while giving everyone else one-word answers. And I'd like to think of him as a smart-ass.

Top notes:

1. _Han zi_- as in the last chapter, Chinese characters used in writing.

2. S.O.B.- Son Of a Bitch

As always, enjoy and please review.

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**Reaction, Reconsider: Warren**

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I strode briskly through the hallways, dearly wishing Sky High was not, in fact, a floating school so I could drive home without taking the stupid bus. I mean, what use is your license and a motorcycle for which you've been saving up for practically your whole entire freakin' life if you can't use it to get around? Well, I actually didn't have a motorcycle, not yet, a month or so more at the Lantern and I'd be set. I actually had a beat up old army green Honda Accord. But still, I was _saving_ for that motorcycle, wasn't I?

While lost in my daily gripe about a) not being able to drive to and from school and b) not having my motorcycle, I bumped into someone…and walked right through her. Ugh, disgusting. Like walking through warm Jell-o. Let me reiterate: disgusting.

I immediately stopped and turned to see who had the Jell-o power besides Ethan. It was new girl…shimmering transparently while staring very, _very_ hard at the ground and muttering to herself. Psycho.

"Hey." As was to be expected, she jumped. And 'Eep!'-ed. Also as was to be expected, I gave her an eye-roll. "I just walked right through you."

Her eyes widened.

Truthfully, new girl's eyes were kind of weird. No, scratch that, _really_ weird. Like Layla's. Layla's eyes are usually somewhere between mahogany and dark chocolate. But, when she goes nuts with the plant thing, they get this freakish lime-green glow. Yeah. New girl's eyes, excuse the cliché, burned with the light of a thousand suns _all the time_. Regular Japanese girl with the black hair and general petite-ness and then BAM. Gold cat eyes.

"Ohmigod." She returned to a more solid form and winced. "I'm so sorry, it must have been so weird. I mean, _I've _never done it before but, I mean…yeah. I'm really sorry. I was trying to figure out how to get home."

There was nothing to do but stare at her like she was an idiot. I swear. Stooping a little to her eye level, I smirked, "You know, the school bus leaves in ten minutes."

She smiled sarcastically up at me. I wondered briefly if I'd still be taller than her if I sat down. "I'm not stupid. I was trying to figure out how to teleport from here. I mean, since the school's not exactly at a fixed location it's difficult to do."

Shrugging, I replied, "Well, like I said, ten minutes." Returning her smile, I moved to board the bus.

After settling down into my regular seat, a plus to being known and feared is that people never encroach on your territory, I noticed freaky cat eyes get on with Ethan. And Ethan usually sat across the aisle from me. Therefore freaky cat eyes would be in close proximity. Great.

I shot Ethan a "Hey" and a wave as he took his usual spot and gave cat eyes another smirk.

"Shut up," she snapped, obviously not so pleased that she couldn't 'port home.

Suppressing a chuckle, I merely raised my hands in defense and turned away. You win some, you lose some; and that one, I most definitely won.

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It was study night at the Lantern. Meaning everyone comes in, takes over a table, and doesn't leave until we close. (Not) Surprisingly enough, cat eyes was the topic of conversation.

"She seems nice," said Will as they compared (read: complained about) History project topics. I, of course, was working and popped into the discussion only when clearing the tables in the vicinity.

"She says she's not actually _from_ Japan, she used to live on the coast and moved here for school last year. So she was just visiting the country for the summer," Ethan offered. "But she said she'd give me her aunt's phone number so I could interview her. Can you imagine? _The_ Ryoko?" He was, very obviously, tickled pink. But I guess that kind of stuff would do it for him. Ethan is a geek first, super person second.

"Well, does she speak the language? Because I've got some J-rock stuff I wanted to translate," Maj cut in, simultaneously attempting to eat her spicy won ton and see how many bits of napkin she could stick in Zach's hair before he noticed.

"When I asked her, she said she spoke a little," Layla replied. "I think it's cool that she knows some of a foreign language-" Uh…_Hello._ _I_ spoke a foreign language. "-like Warren." Thank you.

"So," Will turned to me as I approached the table from behind. Sometimes I wonder if he has pre-cog in addition to the flying and the punching stuff. Talk about counting your blessings…or curses if you think about it that way. "What do you think of her?"

"Freaky cat eyes?" I asked, earning a swat from Layla. "Hey, watch the glasses; you break 'em, you buy 'em! And her eyes _are_ freaky."

"Well, _yeah_, but you don't have to say so," Maj replied, rolling her eyes at me. This is what I get for vouching for them to be able to study here.

"Dude, just because you guys," Zach gestured to Maj and I, "have unnaturally colored hair, you're not freaks."

"Yeah," Maj whispered teasingly. "We're freaks because we have powers."

"Hey-" he began.

"You must admit," you set yourself up for that one," Will shrugged, trying, and failing, to pick up a piece of lemon chicken with his chopsticks. He ended up stabbing it instead.

A generally contented silence ensued as Zach tried to think of a good comeback.

"You know, guys," Ethan mused, "this is exactly why we never get any studying done here."

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A few weeks later, just as I was exiting the Paper Lantern after my Saturday shift, I got a call from Layla. "Do you want to come with us to see that new horror movie?" she asked. Translation: Come pick us up so we can see the new horror movie, or else. Which is how I found myself driving to the mall, car bursting at the seams, and trying to stop a fight over who got to control the radio. Needless to say, when we finally pulled into the parking lot, I was very, _very_ happy. Not only because it saved my car from certain death, but because it increased the chances of my sanity staying intact for the next few hours.

"Okay, so…box office," Will pointed in the general direction of the theater and, like good little lemmings, we all followed suit.

Upon reaching said office, who should we see but little miss Cat Eyes sneaking out a side door.

"Yuri!" Layla exclaimed, waving to our collective acquaintance. "What are you doing here?"

Cat Eyes waved back, making her way through the crowd to our little huddle. "Just got off work," she explained. "The boyfriend cancelled the dinner plans so I'm gonna go home and shower." She shrugged. "What are _you_ guys doing here?"

"Seeing the new horror movie," Maj replied, psyched. Zach, on the other hand, looked as if he'd faint as soon as he got into the theater. Aah, the price of love. I was also looking forward to 'borrowing' Will's new camera phone for blackmailing purposes. So I'm a little evil, so what?

Layla, ever the humanitarian, then blurted out, "Do you want to come with us?"

A small inner-debate seemed to rage within Yuri's mind. Either that or she spaced out on us. "Well, I've already seen it, but…" A gleam not unlike Layla's 'dastardly plan' gleam entered Yuri's eyes. "Come on." She motioned for us to follow her as she sauntered up to the ticket counter. "Hey Joe," she smiled, at the bored-out-of-his-mind clerk.

To our surprise, he smiled back. "Yuri, why haven't you escaped this hell hole yet? You got off at six."

"Found some friends," she motioned towards us. "You wanna give me seven tickets to the seven-thirty in theater ten?" she asked.

Two minutes later, she was handing out our (free) movie tickets and heading toward the concession stand. Now, we're a little particular about just who gets into our little group of outcasts (or maybe there just aren't any more outcasts?), but free movies and popcorn? Well, Cat Eyes may be a bit freaky, but she got my vote of acceptance into the Sky High misfits.

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Fast-forward three months. The time: close to dinner. The people: well, duh. The place: Cat Eyes', okay, okay, _Yuri's _apartment. The purpose: who the _hell _knows? I was the last to arrive because I had to gas up my baby. That's right. Brand-new, decked-out, custom detailed Suzuki V-Strom 1000. Black, of course and turbo-powered. Oh. _Yeah_. _And_ Yuri lasered in _Ling shu Yan,_ _Huo Long_ in _han zi _(1), which is 'Spirit of Flame' and my Chinese name, 'Firey Dragon.' Needless to say, she was no longer freaky.

Anyway, so I arrived. Ethan was attempting to study. Zach and Maj had ditched for a movie date, saying maybe they'd be over later (meaning: don't expect us before eleven). Will and Layla were playing footsie, ugh, on the couch. Yuri was attempting dinner. Key word: attempting. And just about everyone was arguing over what to watch on TV while they waited for the food.

"Hey Warren," Yuri waved me over, "when you cook rice, is the pot _supposed_ to boil over?"

I groaned. I didn't know how Yuri would survive when she moved out. She hardly functioned when her parents were away on business and she could barely even cook Easy Mac. "No, not really."

"Shit." She ran back into the kitchen. I stifled a snort as she nearly tripped on the hem of her too-long sweat pants.

"So guys," I swiped the remote and turned to the Food Network. "What're we eating?"

Layla and Will looked at each other. "Well, from the way things are going in there," Will jerked his head in the kitchen's direction as the phone started ringing, "I'd say pizza."

I had to laugh.

"Can someone please get that?" Yuri shouted. "I'm a little busy."

I grabbed Yuri's cell phone and flipped it open. "Hello?"

Silence.

"_Hello_."

Still nothing. Telemarketers really irritate me. Of course, they never actually talk to me; people say that, when I answer the phone, I sound like I'm extremely pissed off. Or that I'm about to commit mass murder. Or that I've just been interrupted having some hot, kinky sex. No actually, that's just Zach and I'm pretty sure he does it to piss me off.

I sighed, about ready to shut the phone.

"_Um…hello?" _A girl with a 'shit, I have the wrong number' voice piped up. Either that or she thought she'd interrupted _Yuri _and I having some hot, kinky sex.

"Yeah?" I asked, walking to the kitchen.

"_Um, is…this _is_ Yuri's phone, right?"_ she asked, nervously. Okay, okay, so it wasn't the kinky sex.

"Yeah." Geez, it's only on your caller ID, lady.

"_Oh, um, good. Can I, uh, speak to her, please? It's kind of important."_

Oh really? "Sure, who is this?"

"_Um…Lisa."_

I cupped the phone in my hand. "Hey Yuri, Lisa." So saying, I handed her the phone and went to scrounge a soda from the fridge.

"Hey Lis'." Yuri motioned for me to check on the new batch of rice. "Yeah. No, that was…no. _No_."

I peered into the pot. At least it wasn't boiling over and looked somewhat normal.

"What do you mean, 'you saw him'? That's not possible."

I decided to take it off the stove before it burned.

"No way. He wouldn't…she _told you_? And he's _what_?" Yuri was getting huffy so I began slowly backing out of the room. She may be a girl, but she hits kind of hard when she's mad and I did not want to be the unwilling punching bag. Probably all of that Japanese martial arts training…or the years worth of marching band twirling flags. Either way, girl had guns.

As I exited, I heard a sharp 'bye' and a click of the phone snapping shut. I hurried to the side so as to avoid the feet stomping in my direction.

"Guys, is chicken okay? I ran out of beef," she sighed, walking out of the kitchen with one hand on her hip, the other massaging the bridge of her nose.

"Uh, yeah. What was that all about?"

She glared at a picture hanging on the wall. It looked suspiciously like the prom. Yuri and a guy I didn't recognize were in the traditional prom-wear. Meaning poofy, shimmery, black thing for her and penguin suit for him. Of course, 'McKinley High School Junior Prom '05' helped explain things too.

She huffed. "My soon-to-be-_ex_-boyfriend has been sneaking around at my old school in my absence," she explained, shooting a not-so-accidental laser through the face of the guy in the wall picture. "And my friend just called to tell me that she saw the little S.O.B. (2) walking over to drop by, unannounced, tonight."

Seeing the sparkle in Layla's eyes, I began to inch toward the door. That sparkle was familiar…as in 'dastardly and cunning evil plan that will probably embarrass the unwilling victim, Warren' familiar. There was only one direction this could be heading and I did not want to take it.

"Yuri!" she called, rising and grabbing my elbow before I could protest and following Yuri into the kitchen.

Pulling chicken out of her refrigerator and popping it in the microwave, Yuri tensed. "What?"

"Why don't you pretend that you knew about…whatever his name is' immoral behavior and," Layla pointed to me as if I were some prize bull, "pretend Warren is your new boyfriend."

I knew it.

Yuri blinked at the suggestion and a look that could only be described as 'hmmm…' came over her features as she opened her mouth to reply.

I knew I had to act fast if I wanted to get out of this with my pride and dignity intact. So I beat her to vocalizing my thoughts.

"Fuck that." 

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I would like to thank **Zoycitenega** and **rootbeergirl19** for their supportive reviews. Was this quick enough for cyber cookies:) It took a little longer because I had to add a scene for plausible backstory. My apologies. The hot kinky sex line was inspired by my good friend, Matt, who is such a perv, but I love him anyway. Haha. I hope you all enjoyed, and please leave a message at the beep!

**BEEP.**

Love, SeraphStar


	3. Shenanigans and Surprises: Layla

**AN: **Standard disclaimer applies and I don't own Oscar the Grouch. I _do_, however, own the poem used. It's a love sonnet I wrote for a friend's English assignment. As always, enjoy and please review!

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**Shenanigans and Surprises: Layla**

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"Oh, come on, Warren. It'll be fun. You like fun," I reasoned. He was really a big softie, I knew; we just had to get him to feel sorry for Yuri and he'd be like putty in our hands. Muahahaha. Boys; once you get to know them, they do anything you say. And people said he and Will were the powerful ones. Silly fools.

"Hey, hey, hey," he raised his hands in protest and began backing away towards the living room. "Remember last time I pretended to date someone? Hmm?" He looked at me pointedly. Ahh, yes; the debacle.

Here, Yuri chuckled. She'd been told the story of homecoming many times, by many people, from many points of view. And, along with the Royal Pain thing, all of them included me asking Warren to take me to homecoming and thoroughly making a fool of myself.

"Okay," I defended, "you have to admit, it was a good plan. It totally would have worked." And it would have. If Will had taken Gwen and she hadn't been a psycho-bitch, he would have seen that Warren had stolen me away and been insanely jealous. That would have resulted in a somewhat anticlimactic showdown as Warren wasn't _really_ interested in me, and I would have gotten my man. Ta-da!

"Yeah," he replied, snapping me out of 'Layla is great' land, "but I still had to go to the _homecoming dance_ wearing a tux…which, incidentally, had to be dry-cleaned after everything that happened." Warren folded his arms and looked at me expectantly. But, surprisingly, the rebuttal came from Yuri.

"Oh, come on," she echoed. "You know I want to be a perpetually-out-of-work actress as my cover. This'll be good practice for me." She smiled sweetly.

Warren shook his head resolutely, leaning against the counter.

Yuri sighed and took a few steps back, looking him up and down, then raising an eyebrow. I wondered what tactic she was trying out.

"What?" he asked, irritated.

"You know. It's a wonder you're still single," she mused. If I'd been drinking anything, it would have ended up on someone's shirt.

He looked at her suspiciously. "Why?"

"Well," Yuri began stalking around him, eyeing him like a hawk. I tried to suppress the giggles. She was _not_ trying to butter him up by feeding his male ego, was she? "Excuse the terrible pun, but, quite frankly, you're hott."

Oh. My. God. She _was_.

"_What_?" Warren spluttered. I bet no one had ever told him that to his face; he was just a little too temperamental for people to go around doing that. Despite his surprise, Warren attempted a recovery. "Hey, but your boyfriend…he, um…" he craned his neck to see the photograph Yuri had 'altered.' "He…um…he's a jock, isn't he? Lots of…um…muscles and…stuff," he finished sourly.

"Well yes, but," Yuri's voice took on a distinct purr as she walked firmly toward Warren and I tried not to crack up, "he's much too…clean-cut." She smiled up at him. "Maybe," she continued, even as Warren looked down at her in slight disgust, "I decided I wanted someone more…exciting." She grinned up at him, catching sight of his face (deer-in-the-headlights plus ohmigod-this-is-_weird-_and-gross), and broke down in a fit of laughter.

I soon joined her.

Will and Ethan, tired of waiting in the living room, poked their heads in the kitchen and gave each other a look. "What's going on in here?"

"Will, sweetheart, can you convince Warren here to pretend to have replaced Yuri's boyfriend when he comes over?" I asked, smiling hopefully up at him.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Yuri regain her composure and jump up on the counter while pointing herself at Warren and attempting to look as alluring as was possible in 'peppermint land' sweat pants and a black tank top prominently displaying Oscar the Grouch. Warren began edging away from the counter before shutting his eyes tightly and shaking his head. I almost felt sorry for him, but he was being difficult about 'the master plan.'

"Okay, look," he turned to Yuri, picking her up off the counter and setting her firmly back down on the kitchen tiles. Rubbing his temples, he looked at her. "If you stop doing that…that right there," he pointed at her as she batted her eyelashes, posing, "just stop that and I'll do whatever you want. It's just really," he shuddered, " really creepy."

Yuri stopped to think for a moment. On the one hand her (mock?) seduction act was 'creepy.' On the other, she now had an accomplice in dealing with her sleazy soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend. And she'd found a new way to annoy Warren in the process. The pros outweighed the cons.

Ceasing her act, she smiled genuinely. "I knew you'd see things my way."

Taking control of the situation, I shooed them both out of the kitchen and proceeded to pose them on the couch.

"When is your boyfriend going to be here?" I asked Yuri as I sat her on Warren's lap and scooped the books on the couch up, placing them on the coffee table to make more space.

"Lisa said she saw him walking over when she called. So, probably ten minutes or so," she replied as I fixed Warren's arms securely around her waist. Actually, he wasn't taking it too badly. He seemed resigned to the fact that he was, and would always be, the surrogate boyfriend. Anyway, he should have at least been flattered. I assumed most boys would be pleased that they were acceptable enough to be called upon for an emergency date.

"That's good," I stepped back to admire my handiwork. It was so awkward, it was cute. Warren being, well…Warren. And then petite little Yuri with her straight-laced etiquette. Of course, Warren _could_ be a gentleman and Yuri _did_ act less ladylike at times, but not all that often. "Just…act cuddly," I said to Warren, holding back a laugh as he glared at me.

Will and Ethan, watching curiously from the kitchen, both chuckled at the thought of Warren being 'cuddly' as I walked back over to them.

"How are they going to stay like that if they need to answer the door?" Ethan asked. I mentally kicked myself; damn, and they look so adorable too.

"Well, usually Nicholas knocks once and walks right on in," Yuri explained. Aah, that's good.

"Oh, okay, so-" I cut my boyfriend off as I dragged him and Ethan back to the kitchen. "Where are we going?"

"Well," I said, "you can't expect anything to happen if we're in the room, can you?"

Neither boy had an answer and we strategically arranged ourselves so we could see and hear after closing the kitchen door. Ethan did his puddle routine and called the crack under the door. I peeped through the keyhole and Will flew up to the hole in the wall opposite the picture Yuri had put a laser through.

Then, we waited. Warren whispered something in Yuri's ear and she giggled. Aww.

A knock on the door was soon followed by a boy stepping into the living room and Yuri was not lying when she said he was clean-cut. He wasn't a captain-of-the-football-team type, more of a captain-of-the-swim-team with short, honey-blonde hair and aquamarine eyes to Warren's longer red-streaked locks and matching dark eyes. I was also sure this Nicholas didn't have any tattoos under the jeans and light blue sweater.

Yuri looked up at the intruder while Warren's eyes made the slow trip, craning his head from his position, kneeling over her on the couch. Both boys stared at each other for a moment, sizing up the competition.

Finally, someone broke the silence.

"Who the _hell _are you?"

The words lingered in the air and Will, Ethan, and I tensed, waiting for the reaction.

"Who the hell am _I_?" Warren sat up. "Who the hell are you?"

Nicholas crossed his arms. "_I'm _Yuri's boyfriend and I'm also wondering what you're doing on top of _my _girlfriend."

I give Warren a lot of credit. He looked thoroughly surprised as he turned to Yuri, bending down again to her eye level, and sounding like his favorite dog had died, "Baby, is that true?"

Yuri smiled gently and removed Warren's hands from her waist, kissing his cheek lightly as she stood. "No." Turning, she placed her hands on her hips, "Nick, what are you doing here?"

His eyes narrowed. "I'm here to see _you_," he all but growled, stepping forward.

Warren stood immediately, placing his hands on Yuri's shoulders. "Well, it doesn't look like she wants your company, does it?"

"Yuri, what the fuck is going on?" asked Nicholas, eyeing Warren murderously.

"Well," she began hotly, "Lisa called. She told me you'd all been at Ocean's last week and, when she came up and asked what you were doing, you replied 'Hitting on some skanks.'" Yuri smiled sweetly. "When she followed with the question 'What about Yuri?', you replied, 'Don't worry, I'm sure she's getting her flirt on at whatever private school she's going to now.'" After waiting a moment to let her comments sink in, Yuri continued, "I gathered that, after this revelation, we were in a somewhat 'open' relationship." Then she added, for good measure, "And I have not been 'getting my flirt on.'"

I couldn't help pumping my fist in the air and hissing a quiet "Yes!" at her statement.

"What, so you picked up a…" Nick looked at Warren, "high-school-dropout?"

Yuri turned quickly, pulling Warren's hands down. From my vantage point, I could see his fingertips blazing slightly.

"Warren is _not_ a high-school-dropout," she stated resolutely, then sighed. "What do you want?"

"You," he fixed her with a firm stare.

"Hey, you had your chance, man," Warren cut in, extinguishing his hands and walking forward to stand in front of Yuri. "You blew it."

Ignoring him, Nick went on, "He drives a _motorcycle_ for Pete's sake. And don't say he doesn't; I saw it in the driveway."

Yuri mumbled something I couldn't hear and Warren raised an eyebrow, high.

"Yeah, see how hott it is when he kills you on it; it's on the news all the time."

"Shut up and leave, Nicholas." Yuri stepped forward, skirting the coffee table. Nick's eyes followed her hands, his gaze lingering on the papers and textbooks strewn about, and he smirked.

Nick picked up one of the many sheets of folder paper and Warren, knowing something I guessed we didn't, lunged for him. Yuri only just managed to grab the sleeve of his jacket, "Warren, don't!" She pulled him back firmly. "Don't."

"That's _mine_," he growled, tugging his jacket out of Yuri's hands and glaring at Nick who was skimming over whatever was on it.

"'For love the tongue or pen have not the words'," Nick began, comically, "'Like silver such that lights the velvet night. Like silk her verse which spoken can be heard, And on the wings of love take love's first flight'." He finished with a flourish and a bark of laughter.

"You're saying it all wrong," Warren grumbled; snatching the paper away from Nick who collapsed on the couch, still guffawing.

"I can't believe you're dating a _pouf_," the blonde snickered.

Yuri caught hold of Warren's hands again and threw the kitchen a glare. Oops. "He's _not_-"

"Come on, come on, do the rest if I was 'reading it wrong'," Nick ignored her, speaking to Warren and sniggering.

For a minute, I was afraid Warren was going to blow Yuri's apartment to Sky High. Then, he took a deep breath, closing his eyes. When he opened them again, his gaze lingered on Yuri, her petite frame obviously tense. "I didn't want to give it to you like this," he murmured, looking down at her, brushing the backs of his fingers down her cheek as she jumped, surprised. I couldn't help the slow, giddy smile from spreading across my face. I sighed; it was _so_ sweet.

"'_For love, the tongue or pen have not the words,_

_Like silver, such that lights the velvet night._

_Like silk, her verse which spoken, can be heard,_

_And on the wings of love, take love's first flight'_."

He spoke softly, gently, soothingly, taking Yuri's hand and running his thumb over her knuckles.

"'_Such eyes, the depth of which reflect the soul,_

_And so reflects the flame of love within,_

_And flame of love which sears to make one whole,_

_Partake of such a love, 'tis not a sin'._"

Setting the sheet on the table, Warren continued; his low, smooth voice flowing like water on rocks. Yuri looked (all fourteen inches) up to his eyes, completely in awe as he continued.

"'_To part shall tug the heartstrings ever taut,_

_And just to meet again relieves the ache._

_And for such love, through lifetimes I have sought_

_And cherish it for fear that it would break'_."

I noticed Nicholas seething as Warren's voice took us all away. Bending closer to Yuri, murmuring in her ear. I couldn't help a small 'aww' as she leaned into him, closing her eyes with a lazy smile on her lips.

"' _So whisper on the wind to me a song_

_That says you, too, will love me ever long'_."

He finished, searching her face for some sort of approval.

Reaching up, Yuri brushed a few stray hairs out of Warren's face, tucking them gently behind his ear. The slow, charming smile I'd only seen once before, when he lit me a candle at the Paper Lantern, appeared on his face. Standing on her tip-toes, Yuri brushed Warren's cheeks with her lips, smiling back, eyes shining.

A fuming Nicholas pushed past them. Turning sharply, he glared at Warren. "You haven't won her yet, Shakespeare," he seethed vehemently. Then, looking at Yuri, his voice softened, hurt, "You'll see. When he almost kills you on that bike, or gets you high at a rave, you'll see. Nice girls never stay with the bad boys." Giving Warren another long, cold stare, he strode briskly from the room.

In a few moments, the front door slammed shut.

Will, Ethan, and I all burst out of the kitchen.

"Warren Peace," I declared, "did _you _write that?"

Looking sheepish for the first time I'd ever seen, he nodded. "Ms. Davis assigned a love poem as homework last week," he explained, trying to shrug it off.

Yuri was looking at him, amused. "Well, who knew?" she chuckled. "Warren, you are a man of many secrets. Budding poet being one of them." She tugged his hair playfully, a weak smile crossing her face.

I elbowed Will in the side and nodded my head in the direction of the other boys. He quickly grabbed Ethan and Warren, ushering them to the kitchen to 'see how the food was doing', leaving me to see how Yuri would be doing.

"You okay?" I asked her as we sat on the couch.

She smiled sadly at me, shrugging. "I guess." Glancing at the kitchen and realizing the boys would take care of the chicken, Yuri sighed; studying her fingernails, she said, to no one in particular, "I was sweet sixteen when he first asked me out."

I laughed softly. "Sweet sixteen and never been kissed?"

Yuri nodded wryly. "My birthday was in April. We started dating in May." Sighing again, she looked over at the now-graffiti-ed prom picture. "I suppose…I suppose it's for the best. You have to keep your eye on boys like him; he was such a catch from close up. Now…" she waved her hands. "It doesn't matter. Let's go see how those boys are doing."

Taking this as my cue to stop, I followed her to the kitchen.

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Well. Thank you for reading chapter the third one. Did anyone catch the X2(which I don't own either) reference? If you did, kudos! You win! Thank-yous go to **rootbeergirl19**, **Moontrimmer**, and **Off Dreaming**. I'm glad I could make you all laugh. And Yuri's former high school is named after the high school half the other kids from the middle school I went to were sent (there were two; I went to one and it's named after the other one). That sounds confusing. It is; I'm sorry.

Please leave me a nice fat and juicy review…because I'm a college student and that means not much money for nice, pretty things. Therefore, reviews make me feel like a million bucks (that I wish I could stick into my bank account).

Please enter your PIN number…

**BEEP.**

Love, SeraphStar


	4. Passing Notes: Will

**AN: **I don't own Sky High or anything affiliated with it. I don't own any of the songs used. I don't own Domino's pizza.

I must thank my friends, Chris Kim and Nancy and Dara, for that time we went Karaoke and forced Chris to sing the song that Warren sings (the second one, not the first one). Besides setting up the last line of this chapter, that was the whole reason for this being written.

Please review because they make me happy!

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**Passing Notes: Will**

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In celebration of the Christmas season being just around the corner, we decided to have a little party at Yuri's house. Why Yuri's? Because her parents were going to be away thus giving us a whole house floor to ourselves (and hopefully we wouldn't wake the renters upstairs). Anyway, Yuri says that they never complain when things get loud. They're very heavy sleepers. 

Layla and I were the last to arrive. Ethan and Maj were testing out the new video game Yuri's dad had brought back from his last business trip to Japan and Zach was cheering on whoever was winning; when we entered, it was Ethan. The sound of swearing from the kitchen let us know where Yuri was. And the subsequent swearing in a lower register let us know Warren was trying to help her salvage whatever was cooking. They were probably failing miserably. It wasn't often that we came out of these little excursions eating anything but take-out and chips.

I got out my cell phone to call our favorite pizza delivery service when they both burst out of the kitchen.

"Why can't you control water?" Warren yelled, rushing for the fire extinguisher.

"It's not my fault! It's my DNA!" Yuri shrieked back. "Anyway, you can control fire! Why don't you put it out?"

Grabbing the canister, they rushed back to the kitchen. "I can _light _fires, not put them out. There's a difference!"

Lots of hissing later, Yuri let out a wail of despair. "The _pizza_!"

Suppressing a chuckle, I dragged Layla to the kitchen. "I'll just call Domino's now, okay?"

Yuri glared at me, trying not to smile. "It's all _his _fault." She pointed at Warren who shot her a defensive look. I had a feeling they were having the equivalent of a lover's tiff. The past few months had been spent masquerading as a couple in hopes that Yuri's 'adorably obsessive-slash-slightly stalkerish' (as spoken by Layla) ex-boyfriend would 'get over it'. He had yet to get the message, but at least he didn't show up more than twice. The second time, Warren, who is actually kind of scary when he's not your friend, threatened to break the guy's arms.

Voices snapped me out of memory lane. "Hey, you never told me this thing ran on _gas_," Warren defended, a frown directed at Yuri. "I thought it was electric."

Backing away to the den, I ordered four large pepperoni pizzas and looked around. At least we had chips and soda on the dining table and…

"Wow," Layla began, looking over a set of shelves near the television, "you have a kareeokee machine?"

Yuri dashed out of the kitchen, Warren sulkily in tow, cringing. "Ohmigod_no_. _Not _kareeokee. It's not kareeokee. Please, never say it like that in front of me again," she grimaced. "It's 'ka' as in crows 'caw', ra as in 'rah, rah, rah', o as in 'oh', and ke as in Kelly. And you roll the r."

"Okay, okay," Layla apologized, "but you have a…kah-rah-oh-keh machine?"

"Yeah." Yuri walked over to the entertainment system and opened a panel, revealing dozens of records and Cds for the machine, three microphones, and a couple songbooks. "Wanna try?"

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By the time the pizza arrived, we had set up a system to choose songs for each other. Ethan, by the powers that be (okay, so it was because he had a sore throat), had been appointed song master and would be picking names out of a hat and choosing songs for everyone. Whichever song Ethan chose, you had to sing. As a rule, anything exceptionally embarrassing would never be mentioned again so as to prevent blackmail. All recording devices were not to be used, just in case. 

Ethan rummaged around in Yuri's old fedora for a name.

"Layla," he said, reading the curlicue handwriting of our host. "And you'll be singing," he proceeded to flip through the songbook, "_Do You Believe in Magic_."

He handed her a microphone and flipped on the TV.

A cheesy video involving some clouds and people in a meadow came up and we waited the few bars for the lyrics to appear.

After the next couple uneventful songs, my _The One_ courtesy of the Backstreet Boys (if anyone tells anyone, I will literally fly them up to the school and leave them there overnight), and Maj's _I'll Be There for You_, we had something interesting.

"Okay Zach, you're next." Ethan handed him a microphone and pushed a few buttons on the karaoke remote.

The sweet, dulcet tones of _Play that Funky Music_ wafted from the speakers.

Zach stared at the screen all through the first verse, dumbfounded. "Dude, that's harsh."

"Come on, come on, " Maj urged, "it'll be funny."

Reluctantly, Zach began reading the words as they appeared on the screen.

"Play that funky music, white boy," he sang-spoke, hesitantly. "Play that funky music right…" Encouraged by Maj, he stood, moon walking to the front of the room.

"Play that funky music, white boy," he _Saturday Night Fever_ disco posed and nodded in Maj's direction. "Throw down the boogie and play that funky music 'till you die…"

By the end of the song, he was doing the weird shoulder scrunch thing to get out high notes. I seriously hoped Yuri's parents had some sort of surveillance equipment in the house because a prime shot like that should never be wasted. And my phone's memory was full.

Next, Warren sang _Skydiving_. We were all very surprised that he knew the words since we thought the only things he listened to were rock and alternative. It turned out he was a country fan…and had quite an extensive collection at his apartment. But you learn something new everyday.

Yuri was giving him a look when he finished. "I didn't know you could sing well _and _write poetry," she observed. "Plus, your range is rather impressive."

He shrugged, gracing her with a smile. "I guess I'm just a man of many talents, miss music expert."

She steepled her fingers, looking up and grinning playfully. "Indeed. Eeenteresting." Unable to keep a straight face, she giggled. "Okay, who's next?"

"Actually," Ethan looked in the hat, "you're last."

"Oh." Yuri peered over at the songbook. "What am I singing?"

"Um…_Diamonds are a Girl's Best Friend_, a la_ Moulin Rouge_," Ethan replied.

Yuri blanched, then scowled.

"Hey, _I_ had to sing-" Maj put a hand over Zach's mouth.

"We know." She rolled her eyes and turned to Yuri. "Oh go on, it's only us."

"And don't forget to dance," Warren added, smirking.

Sighing, Yuri grabbed a mic and sat on the coffee table, legs crossed, and swiped the black fedora from Ethan. "_The French are glad to die…_" She gave him a look that could have been interpreted as 'die, die, die' or 'come here, you sexy beast', both of which were very disturbing thoughts. "_…for love_."

Donning the hat, she rose, stalking around the table. "_They delight in fighting…duels_."

Making her way over to the side of the couch that Layla, Warren, and I were sitting on, she continued. "_But I prefer a man who leaves…_" She looked at us as if sizing us up. "_And gives expensive…_" She plopped down in Warren's lap. "_…jewels_."

Giggling, she danced away before he could catch her.

"_A kiss on the hand may be quite continental,  
But diamonds are a girl's best friend _."

Warren made a grab for her waist as she sang, but Yuri teleported to the back of the couch we were sitting on.

"_A kiss may be grand but it won't pay the rental on your humble flat,  
Or help you feed your…_"

Looking out from behind me, Yuri waggled her fingers at Warren who sat down next to Maj and sulked.

"_…pussycat._

_Men grow cold as girls grow old,  
And we all lose our charms in the end_."

Yuri walked behind the couches to where the others were sitting.

"_But square-cut or pear-shaped,  
These rocks don't lose their shape.  
Diamonds are a girl's best friend!_"

She continued, stalking around the room like…well, a bad impression of a stripper. Or a good one, depending on how you looked at it. Me, I was trying not to laugh.

"_There may come a time when a  
Lass needs a lawyer.  
But diamonds are a girl's best friend._"

Blowing Zach a kiss, Yuri posed for an imaginary camera. Obligingly, he started firing off imaginary shots.

"_There may come a time when a  
Hard-boiled employer thinks you're awful nice._"

She winked.

"_But get that ice or else no dice._

_He's your guy when stocks are high,  
But beware when they start to descend.  
Diamonds are a girl's best  
Diamonds are a girl's best  
Diamonds are a girl's best friend._"

Making her way back to the front of the room, Yuri attempted to swing dance by herself and ended up sprawled on the coffee table. Shaking her head, she blew a few loose strands of hair from her face.

"_And back when those louses go back to their spouses,  
Diamonds…_"

Picking herself up, Yuri stood and cat walked back to the couches.

"_Are a girl's…_"

She spun on her heels and posed again…

"_Best…_"

…before taking her original seat: in Warren's lap. Leaning back to look him in the eye, she smiled sweetly.

"_Friend…_"

Giving Warren an air-kiss, Yuri turned to the rest of us and bowed.

Sighing, Warren picked her up and set her down on the couch. "Why does this always happen to me?" he asked.

"We've already established that you are the hott, unattached, rebel loner type," Layla replied condescendingly, as if they'd gone over this many times before. I think they probably had, too. "Get over it."

"I get to choose the next one," Zach swiped the songbook and remote from Ethan and proceeded to pore over it. "Will, Layla," he pointed to us. "This one."

Handing us mics, he punched in some numbers. As soon as I heard the opening music, I knew I'd have to kill him later. Information like that floating around might be a deadly form of blackmail someday. Layla (and Maj and Yuri), however, sighed romantically. Pht, Girls.

Leaning into me, Layla began the opening lines of 'our song.'

"_Tale as old as time,  
True as it can be.  
Barely even friends,  
Then somebody bends,  
Unexpectedly._"

I shifted to look at her, forcing myself not to try and read the words on the screen because I knew them anyway. Or I thought I knew them…and if I got them wrong, well, she'd forgive me. Right?

"_Just a little change,  
Small, to say the least.  
Both a little scared,  
Neither one prepared,  
Beauty and the Beast._"

We always laugh here because I was such a beast to her right before we started dating. A corny little couples' thing, I know, but still. And she always takes my hand when we begin the bridge.

"_Ever just the same,  
Ever a surprise,  
Ever as before,  
Ever just as sure,  
As the sun will rise._"

Layla loves to sway with the music; neither of us can dance, but she loves to sway. So we swayed during the break and, every once in a while, her head would end up on my shoulder and Yuri and Maj would sigh. I glanced over at the guys to see Ethan and Zach sniggering quietly at my plight. Warren, on the other hand, looked extremely amused, but managed to keep a (nearly) straight face.

"_Tale as old as time,  
Tune as old as song.  
Bittersweet and strange,  
Finding you can change,  
Learning you were wrong._"

I looked across the room again and saw Zach inching his arm around Maj's shoulder; she tried to pretend she didn't notice so he'd keep on. Layla and I exchanged a knowing smile over it.

"_Certain as the sun,  
Rising in the east,  
Tale as old as time,  
Song as old as rhyme,  
Beauty and the beast._

_Beauty and the beast._"

When we finished, Yuri sighed, a dopey smile plastered on her face. "Awww."

I had to reply. "Aw, shut up." And threw a pillow at her.

Throughout the course of the night, we ended up singing _We Go Together_, _Jerk it Out_, and _That Thing You Do_. We also tried to convince Ethan to croak out some Billy Joel, but he refused, saying he had to save his voice.

The most humorous highlight of the evening was, of course, Warren.

I picked him a song I knew he'd just hate, but I knew it'd be hilarious if he sang it.

"Okay," I told him, handing him a mic, "you do this and you can pick the next one you sing."

He looked pensive at the prospect. So far, he hadn't been allowed to choose a song for himself. "What is it?" he asked, looking at me shrewdly.

"Just say you'll do it and I promise you get to pick the next one," I replied.

"_What is it_?" he asked again.

"Nu-uh, promise," I stated firmly, crossing my arms.

Thinking it over a moment and, obviously, going 'what the hell', Warren nodded. "Okay."

Grinning like a Cheshire cat, I handed him the mic again and started the song. And really, really hoped he didn't burn Yuri's couch.

Upon hearing the song's intro, Warren glared at me. Yuri bursting into laughter probably didn't help. For the whole introduction, he started at the television, probably trying to figure out how mad Yuri would be if he threw a fireball at it.

Thinking better of his fireball idea, Warren raised the microphone and began reciting, in monotone, the words on the screen.

"I'm too sexy for my shirt," he declared in monotone, "too sexy for my shirt. …so sexy it hurts."

He used the break to glare at me some more. This look ,unlike the ambiguity of the look Yuri gave Ethan earlier in the night, was obviously 'die, die, die.' Oops.

"And I'm too sexy for Milan," he continued, nostrils flaring, "too sexy for Milan, New York, and Japan."

I couldn't help snickering despite the glare of death he was sending me.

"And I'm too sexy for your party, too sexy for your party," he proclaimed, snorting. "No way I'm disco dancing."

Yuri, who by this time was leaning on him for support with tears rolling down her cheeks, wheezed, "You have to do the dance!"

The music continued as she pulled him to his feet and forced him to catwalk as the chorus played. "What the fuck-" he protested as she made for him to swivel his hips.

Warren growled, making a grab for her before turning back to the screen, sighing. "I'm a model, you know what I mean. And I do my little turn on the catwalk."

"Yeah on the catwalk, on the catwalk, yeah," Yuri prompted.

"'I shake my little'…I am _not _'shaking my little touche on the catwalk'!" he bellowed as Yuri continued posing him.

"Oh, shut up and sing." Yuri scowled at him, crossing her arms.

"I'm too sexy for my cat," he grumbled. "Too sexy for my cat…poor pussy, poor pu- Hey, what are you doing?"

Yuri sat down on the ground and started to meow and rub up against his legs. Of course, we were all nearly dead with laughter by then.

"I'm-too-sexy-for-this-song," he rattled off before throwing the microphone at me as Yuri dissolved into a ball of mad insanity on the floor. "There!"

While we waited for her to become sane again, meaning not caught up in a fit of laughter, Warren sent me another glower. "I hate you," he sulked.

"Aww, Warren," Maj teased, "we all know you're too sexy." She sniggered as he turned his glare on her.

He then proceeded to ignore her and swiped the songbook from me. "This better be worth it," he muttered to himself.

He punched in a few numbers and pointed to Yuri. "You," he said.

"Hm?"

"This is a duet, so you get to sing with me." He smirked at her. "And, unlike that other one," here Warren shot me a glower, "this is a real song."

You could almost _see _Yuri regret the hip swivel thing. But her shoulders relaxed when she heard what song Warren had chosen. Warren had a rich, deep voice that I somewhat envied. If I could absorb DNA like Kirsty, a girl in our class, I would steal his voice.

"_If I never knew you,  
If I never felt this love,  
I would have no inkling of  
How precious life can be._"

Taking Yuri's hand, Warren led her to the front of the room as if he were leading her to a dance floor before continuing. A very gentlemanly move which I stored in my brain for future blackmailing purposes.

"_And if I never held you,  
I would never have a clue  
How at last I'd find in you  
The missing part of me._"

Layla sighed audibly beside me. I had to admit, when Warren worked the charm, he did pretty good. Lucky for me he didn't work the charm all the time, and never on my girl.

"_In this world so full of fear,  
Full of rage and lies,  
I can see the truth so clear  
In your eyes…_"

Taking the opportunity, Warren used his index finger to raise Yuri's chin and look her in the eye.

"_So dry your eyes._

_And I'm so grateful to you,  
I'd have lived my whole life through…_"

Warren smiled his 'charming' smile and I thought I saw Yuri blush as a wistful expression crossed her features.

"_Lost forever,  
If I never knew you_."

Pensive, Yuri began her verse in a breathy tone, looking up at Warren with her head tilted.

"_If I never knew you,  
I'd be safe, but half as real,  
Never knowing I could feel  
A love so strong and true._"

Letting her voice ring, Yuri smiled up at Warren. I turned to Layla and kissed her cheek. "No matchmaking," I whispered in her ear.

She swatted at me. "You're no fun."

"_I'm so grateful to you,  
I'd have lived my whole life through…_"

Yuri closed her eyes and for a split second, I imagined her on a stage. An actress would be a perfect cover for her, I mused, but never perpetually out of work.

"_Lost forever,  
If I never knew you_."

"_I thought our love would be so beautiful_," Warren dropped Yuri's hand to brush her cheek with his fingertips.

"_Somehow we made the whole world bright_," she replied, leaning in to him.

"_I never knew that fear and hate could be so strong,  
All they'd leave us were these whispers in the night._"

I marveled at the contrast in their voices. I know I'm not incredibly deep or anything, but Yuri stretching her range and Warren belting out the lower notes reminded me of a gentle rain; distinct, but soothing.

"_But still my heart is singing  
We were right…_"

Beginning the bridge, they began to alternate lines; Yuri singing the melody with Warren doing the counter-melody. It surprised me that they'd never sung together, as far as I knew, before.

"_If I never knew you,  
(There's no moment I regret)  
If I never knew this love,  
(Since the moment that we met)  
I would have no inkling of  
(If our time has gone too fast)  
How precious life can be.  
(I've lived at last…_)"

Picking her up by the waist, Warren spun Yuri in the air.

"_I thought our love would be so beautiful,  
Somehow we'd make the whole world bright_."

Warren set Yuri down and she pirouetted in his arms.

"_I thought our love would be so beautiful,  
We'd turn the darkness into light._"

I felt Layla sigh again when Warren joined Yuri. A special date would probably be in order sometime in the next week or so, just to get all that extra mushy, lovey-dovey stuff out of her system. Thankfully, I had a little cash saved up.

"_And still my heart is singing  
We were right…_"

"_We were right_," Warren echoed.  
"_And if I never knew you,  
I'd have lived my whole life through…_" he trailed off.

"_Empty as the sky_," Yuri answered.

"_Never knowing why_," they sang together.  
"_Lost forever  
If I never knew…_"

Both smiling, they went for the last note…

"_…you…_"

Taking a bow, and making Yuri curtsey, Warren led her back to the couch.

Layla stood, pointing at them. "You guys should-"

I tried to cover her mouth, fearing the next words would be 'start dating.' Not that that would be bad; it's just, Layla tends to meddle in other people's affairs. And the last thing we need is another homecoming. Literally. Also, would it not be more confusing if they _did _start dating and Yuri's ex found out that the beginning of their 'relationship' was just a cop out to get back at him? Anyway, Layla was talking.

"-enter the talent show!"

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Okie dokie my loves. I think that's my favorite chapter. I like it a lot because my darling friend Chris really is like our darling Warren Peace. I hope you enjoyed reading it because I enjoyed writing it. :) Please leave me a message to know that I'm appreciated. I check my hits counter every so often and go 'huh?' because I am confuzzled. Anyway, just a few more edited ones and then we can get to the good stuff.

Lots of love, SeraphStar.


	5. Wheels in Motion: Layla

**AN: **Standard disclaimer applies. _The Suite Life of Zack and Cody _reference is not mine. Shakers are like Easter egg-shaped maracas with no handles. If you need to know what a tambourine is, look it up. All other interesting notes are at the end.

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**Wheels in Motion: Layla**

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Of course, my great suggestion was met with immediate opposition. It figures since everyone but me is pretty much stuck in a certain social stigma. Okay, I'm lying. It's probably because they don't like performing.

"Fuck that," said you-know-who, settling down on the couch and looking grumpy. He swiped some potato chips off the table, inspecting them carefully before putting them in his mouth. Proceeding to ignore me, he flipped through the songbook some more.

Yuri gave me an uneasy look. "I don't think so. I mean, what would we _do _anyway?"

I sighed. You had to love Yuri for her random complete imbecilic tendencies. "_Sing_, of course," I replied.

She wrinkled her nose. "Sing what?"

I shrugged. "I don't know." Just then, I had a terrific idea. I was just popping up with them left and right. Of course, you have to be on your toes around these people, maybe that's where it all comes from. "Warren can write a song!"

He glared at me and repeated, around his mouthful of chip, "Fuck. That."

Rolling my eyes at him, I turned back to Yuri. "And I bet you could write the music. You have a piano here and I know you learned to play guitar and everything. I mean, you must have gleaned something from all those years in band."

"Well…" I could tell I was wearing her down. Who says the only power I have is control over plants?

"You guys could totally win! Plus, you'll have a few months to practice. It's not until the middle of February," I added, getting excited.

Maj leaned in. "Hey, if you guys do it, I can play 'set," she said, picking up a pencil and twirling it between her fingers.

We all turned to look at her. "You play percussion?" asked Ethan.

She nodded. "My cousin had a band last, last summer and I learned from one of his friends," she explained. Smirking, she added, "He was hott."

"Well, I can play base," Zach interjected, attempting to give Maj a smoldering glance. It didn't really work. "Really, I can!" he exclaimed when we looked at him doubtfully. "My dad taught me."

"Hey, we can all form a band!" Ethan declared excitedly.

My eyes widened; this was not what I had in mind.

"I can play keyboard," he added. "I had lessons when I was a kid."

"Popsicle," Warren interrupted, "you're _still _a kid and _we _are not forming a band because _I_ refuse." That statement seemed to put a damper on the mood and pretty much end the conversation.

Sighing, Will stood and popped in whatever DVD he'd brought since it was his turn to choose.

Deciding I would risk performing onstage to see Warren and Yuri use their talents (other than the fireball-throwing and ancient space alien variety), I tuned out the opening credits and began planning an all-powerful plan of coercion. Because my power of coercion was all-powerful. Cue sinister music…oh wait, that was just the movie. Darn.

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The next day, after space botany, I found Warren in his usual spot for break: the school library. For a teenage rebel, Warren was actually very well-read. Probably because his mother co-owned a book store. Also probably the reason for his poetry-writing skills. Hm.

I commandeered the seat next to him and he glanced up, acknowledged my presence, and went back to his book. This week it was Tolkien. Last week, it had been Sheldon and next week it would probably be Updike…and then maybe Virgil. None of us quite understood why, exactly, he read novels in alphabetic order of author's last names, but Warren was just sort of anal-retentive-weird like that.

"So, hi," I chirped, taking out my history book.

He sighed and closed The Hobbit. "What are you up to?"

"Me?" I asked, trying to look as innocent as possible.

"Yes you," he replied, glancing knowingly at me. "You have that look, the one that says you're up to something I won't like."

I feigned offense. "You don't like my suggestions?" I asked, mock-hurt filling my voice. Of course, I probably had a scheming look in my eyes. I made a mental note to remedy that.

Meanwhile, Warren gave me a blank stare. "Let's see," he began, "first it was take you to homecoming to get back at Will who didn't _go_ to homecoming; then it was pretend to be Yuri's new boyfriend, getting called a high-school-dropout _and _ a pouf; and now it's…" He stopped and thought. "Well, what is it?"

I bit my lip. He did have a point. "I think it would be a really good idea for you and Yuri to write a song for the talent show."

He scowled, rolling his eyes. "Not that again."

"I'm serious!" I exclaimed, indignant.

"What would I write about anyway?" he asked. "Some mushy, lovey-dovey shit?" He snorted in disgust. "In case you haven't noticed," he pointed out, "I'm not really that kind of guy."

I gave him a skeptic look. "So that love poem at Yuri's just sort of popped out of midair?" I asked.

Warren scowled again. "Hey, that was an assignment. I don't go around writing stuff like that all the time."

I gave him another look; one that clearly said 'I don't believe you.'

"I'm serious," he defended, huffily going back to Tolkien.

"Let me see your notebook," I ordered.

"What?" he looked at me incredulously.

"Show me your notebook," I repeated. I was going to nail him as a softie; I just knew it. Bwahaha. I was going to have the ultimate blackmail on Warren Peace, for future use at any time, and there was nothing he could do about it. I must have been emanating some kind of divine light, I was so pleased with myself. My fingers, with a mind all their own, reached for his bound paper tablet.

"…no." He slid the book out of my reach.

"Come on, Warren," I pouted. No one can resist my pout. No one. "Please?"

"No."

Damn. "Why not. It's not as if you have any more love poems in there, right?" I asked, snatching it from his bag. Haha. Okay, so the pout doesn't always disarm. But it does distract.

"Hey!" he exclaimed, making a grab for his stolen possession.

I flipped to a page near the front. Scrawled in his slanted, untidy handwriting was yet another poem. Many words crossed out, re-written, and crossed out again littered the lined page. I ran a finger under the words and couldn't help doing the sickeningly sweet 'aww.'

_the dreams  
they keep coming  
the nameless angel  
she whispers in the dark  
the magic of the stars  
the shapeless fear  
drawing ever closer  
it comes._

I re-read the poem and suppressed a giggle. "Warren Peace," I declared, "you straight-faced liar."

He 'hmph'ed and glared at me, obviously irritated. "What?"

"This is really good," I told him. "You should write a song for the show. I'm serious."

He looked doubtful. "What did Yuri say when you asked her?"

I bit my lip again. "Well…I haven't spoken with her yet…"

"When you have her answer, come see me," he said firmly, swiping his book and leaving for his next class.

I sat back, checking my watch. One down…

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I found Yuri later that afternoon sitting on the school steps, in her own little world. She was bobbing her head to, I checked her iPod, Earth, Wind, and Fire when I took a seat beside her. She didn't notice me until I tapped her shoulder and whispered 'Boo.'

"Hey!" she exclaimed, startled. "Oh," she sighed, "it's just you. Sorry." Scooting over, she motioned to the space beside her. "Here, have a sat."

Accepting the invitation, I set my bag down. "So, the talent show," I said.

When she didn't answer, I looked over at her. Rolling my eyes at her, I pulled the earphones off her head. "Hey, I'm talking to you."

Blinking, she looked at me like an abandoned puppy. "But…I was listening to that…" Boogie Wonderland may have been captivating, but I needed her undivided attention in order to have blackmail against Warren Peace for all time. Hem, and to strengthen the bonds of friendship which hold us all together…and to encourage the gifts that Yuri and Warren have been given instead of hiding them away because of social stigmas and dislike of large crowds.

Ignoring her pout, I handed the earphones back and repeated my statement. "Have you thought about the talent show?" I asked, fiddling with the blades of grass around our feet.

Shutting off her iPod, she leaned back, looking at the sky. "No, not really." Swinging her legs, she looked back to me. "I mean, I don't really perform."

"Stage fright?" I asked.

"No," she replied, shaking her head. "I just never thought it would suit me, you know?" Yuri shrugged. "I mean…well, you know, because of what we are; and what if something happened and I accidentally powered up at a gig? Or if something happened at the gig and I had to choose between the whole 'save the people' or 'keep my identity' thing? I don't know. I just…" she trailed off, shrugging again.

"Well, would you do it?" I pressed.

She flopped backwards. "Maybe. Did you ask Warren? Because I can't write to save my life," she explained.

I sighed heavily. "He said to ask you first."

Yuri bit her lip. "What about everyone else?"

"Well," I began, "Maj, Ethan, and Zach said they'd be your band." I looked at her hopefully.

"What about you and Will?" she asked, sitting up.

"Oh," I shook my head, " neither of us really…we can't…well, _I_ don't really have a sense for music."

Yuri looked pensive. "How about…if you can convince Will to do it, I say yes. Oh, and if you do it too."

I wrinkled my nose. Why couldn't people just give me straight answers?

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Sidling up to my boyfriend as we studied later that night, I smiled sweetly at him. "Will, sweetheart," I began.

He gave me a tentative smile, probably wondering if he'd done anything wrong recently. "Yes?" I could see him ticking the things off in his head. 'Bought flowers for Valentine's day, remembered the anniversary, remembered the birthday, finished the Christmas shopping…'

"Let's do the talent show," I replied, looking up at him.

"Huh?" He looked at me like I'd grown another head. "But…I can't…_do_ anything like…that…"

"Let's make that band like we were saying at Yuri's house," I suggested, snuggling up to him. That always worked. I think. …maybe.

"Well…" Haha, my plans always worked. "…what would we do?"

Damn. "Um…you can play the…the…shakers!" I exclaimed. "And I'll play the tangerine!"

Will looked at me funny. "The tangerine?"

"Tan…tan…tan…" I wrinkled my nose, trying to remember what the instrument with the baby cymbals on a wooden circle was called.

"Tambourine?" he suggested.

"Yes!" I exclaimed. "The tambourine."

He scratched his neck. "I don't know…"

"Please," I pleaded. "Yuri said she'd do it if we did."

"Do we always do what people tell us to do, like good little teenagers?" he asked playfully, tugging on my pigtails.

I rolled my eyes. "No. But I think it would be really good for Warren and Yuri to be able to use their non-superpower talents for positive pursuits." Smiling at my boyfriend, I patted myself on the back (internally, of course). It sounded a lot better without the 'blackmail on Warren for life' part.

He sighed and shrugged his shoulders. "Sure, why not."

Throwing my arms around Will's neck, I kissed his cheek. "Thank you." I sighed heavily. "Thank you, thank you, thank you."

He sighed, a crooked smile appearing on his lips. "No problem."

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I caught up to Yuri the next day before Mad Science as she shuffled along, looking rather depressed. I made a mental note to ask her if this depression was based on the 'boyfriend incident'; for now, I was on a mission. "So, Will said he'd do it," I told her.

She looked at me for a minute, trying to figure out what I was talking about. "Oh." She thought a while longer. "Oh…the talent show." She stopped walking and fiddled with the straps on her bag.

I nodded, walking back the few steps to where she stood. "So you have to do it now," I smirked.

"Aww…" she slumped against the lockers, "well, I didn't really mean…"

"Please?" I pouted.

"Oh, all right," she replied. Why is it my pout works on everyone but Warren? "I'll start writing the music tonight…"

Hugging Yuri, I dragged her to class. Two down, one to go.

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I didn't have a chance to talk to Warren in school so I decided to visit him at work. I knew for a fact that he took his dinner break at five-thirty and pushed determinedly through the door at five-thirty-five.

Sitting down at the corner table he was occupying, I smiled. "Hi."

He looked up at me, a tiny shadow of a grin on his face. That meant he was having a pretty good day. "Hi."

"Yuri said she'd do it."

This was met with a similar reaction to Yuri's as Warren attempted to recall exactly what Yuri was supposed to agree to do, in other words, utter confusion. Then he brightened. "My history project?" he asked.

I rolled my eyes. "No, the talent show."

Warren's face fell. "Oh."

"Now, will _you _do it?" I asked expectantly.

He sighed. "You won't stop bugging me about it until I say yes, will you?" he asked, picking up a won-ton and examining it (what is with his examining food fetish?) before popping it in his mouth, whole.

"Yeah, pretty much."

He sighed again. "Fine."

I grinned at him. "Thanks Warren. It'll be fun. You like fun."

He stood, presumably to push me out the door before I caused any more damage. "Now, where have I heard that before?"

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After a few phone calls to confirm Ethan, Zach, and Maj's assistance in the production, I sat back in bed, pleased with myself. People are so easy to manipulate, just like plants, really. Not that I'd ever use these awesome powers for evil. Well, not anything _incredibly_ evil, I noted to myself. Frowning, I turned to my bedside window and produced a sprig of lavender. Calm once more and basking in my glory, I smiled at my results, both with the lavender and my cohorts.

Haha, my power of coercion is _still_ all-powerful. Layla is _good_.

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Okay. To start off, I forgot my thank yous for the last chapter! I'm so sorry!

So thanks to **Ghostly Green**, **rootbeergirl19**,and** Off Dreaming** for their comments and warm fuzzies, even though I forgot my manners. For chapter four, thanks go to** LadyKida**, **Nelle07**, **Riderazzo**, and **XmarksthespotX**. As well as **War Admiral** (I'm glad you enjoyed chapter two. Warren is so much fun to write!) and **Off Dreaming** (Well, I'll explain the Chris thing…).

This might answer the question (if anyone was asking) as to why I can never write Warren/Layla (Sorry). Chris, my dear friend, is rather a Warren in that he is grumpy, hounded by pretty little girlies who think he's smokin', a real 'dude' (he surfs), and looks perpetually pissed off, even when he's not. I'm serious. Oh, except he's Korean. If he lets me, I'll show y'all a picture.

Anyway. I believe the level of friendship we've achieved would be something like the friendship I see Warren and Layla having. Warren about to blow his top or do something 'stupid' and Layla trying to avoid the catastrophe waiting to happen. And since I could never date Chris (he has a thing for petting pretty hair, which he says I have…plus he calls me mom sometimes when I end up taking care of things he's forgotten to do), I could never write Warren/Layla.

So, that was my long-winded explanation of…I don't know exactly. I'm tired.

Also! Anyone wanting to see a picture of my very own Warren Peace, raise your hand (or stick it in a review). Depending on his rating for the popularity scale, he may decide not to be humble just this once.

Good night, loves.

XOXO, SeraphStar.


	6. Revising and Other Things: Yuri

**AN: **Standard disclaimer. I don't own Cheetos either. I do own all the lyrics and songs they are derived of.

For illustrations to chapters one, three, and four, leave a note in your review. For song lyrics, see previous. Finally, reviews give me warm fuzzies. Please review.

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**Revising and Other Things: Yuri**

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Okay, so. Zach's dad said we could rehearse in their basement: awesome. I'd never been to Zach's house before: not so awesome. I did not have Zach's exact address: really not awesome. Therefore I teleported to the middle of the stream near his house: really fucking _not_ awesome. Dripping wet, I trudged up the steps to Zach's front door, trailing water puddles and a wet, squelchy sound that made my ears cringe, and knocked.

I was suddenly very, very glad I'd forgotten my guitar at home.

When glowboy opened the door and looked at me funny, I smiled sarcastically. "Can I borrow a towel?"

Finally, I persuaded Warren to drive to my house and retrieve my guitar, music, and a spare set of clothes because I did _not_ want to risk teleporting back with all my stuff. Dry, guitar and music in hand, and generally in better spirits (though my hair was currently seeping through the back of my jacket and t-shirt), we got down to business.

I handed out everyone's music and set about teaching Will and Layla to read basic percussion rhythms. Layla was playing the tambourine as she had requested, but I wasn't about to grant Will permission to play the gong. I did, however, allow him to play the shakers, as Layla suggested. He was a little less than thrilled, but dealt with it.

"So," I reviewed, "an eighth note is?"

"Half a quarter note," Layla replied.

"And a quarter note is?" I turned to Will.

"Half a half note," he said dutifully.

"And a half note is?" I stepped back, looking at both of them.

"Half a whole note," they said together.

"And a whole note?" I concluded.

"Has four beats."

I smiled. All rhythm is is basic math and fractions. It really wasn't very difficult until you actually started playing though. I then decided to take a look at Warren's lyrics. Upon reading the first stanza, I realized we had a problem.

"Warren," I tapped him on the shoulder as he helped Maj set up her equipment, "a word, please?"

He apologized to Maj and followed me to the porch. "Yes?"

I held up the sheet of paper he'd given me. "How is this a duet?"

He snatched the sheet out of my hand and glanced over it. "I get the first verse, you get the second verse, and the rest of the stuff is together," he explained, as if I were stupid.

I looked at him like he'd sprung a third eyeball. "That's not the way it works," I stated firmly, sitting down on the porch railing.

Clearly irritated, he sighed and leaned against a support beam. "Um, yeah it is."

"But…" I protested, "everything is in first person." I took the paper back and read it aloud.

"I wanna be something,  
Let the world know that I'm out there.  
I tell ya/I'm gonna make it,  
Oh yeah/I'm gonna make it," I recited, deadpan.

"So?" he asked, _very_ clearly irritated that I'd found something wrong with his creation if the heat his hands were giving off was any indication. Gee, artists: touchy, touchy. I ignored him.

"Everything in this is 'I' or 'me'," I explained. "A duet has to have 'we' or 'us' for this kind of song."

Warren rolled his eyes at me. "It's a song. It doesn't have to be realistic or grammatically correct, you know." He zapped a falling leaf. "It's a song."

I hmphed.

"And, I was looking at your music," he countered, holding up the four or so sheets I'd given him.

"And?" I asked.

"This is way too slow," he replied, pointing to the tempo marking in the upper left corner. "These lyrics," he pointed to his paper, "will not go with this music."

I know my nostrils flared. Looking over the music and lyrics together, I sighed, realizing he was right. "Shit." Slumping to the floor and looking up at him, I wrinkled my nose.

He nodded. "Yeah."

"Well," I wrinkled my nose, "what do you suggest we do?"

Plucking the paper from my hands again, Warren walked over to lean against the doorpost. "I think a rewrite is in order."

My eyes shot up. "Now wait just a second mister," I began. "If you think I'm gonna-"

He held up a hand to silence me. "I said a rewrite is in order," he explained. "Meaning you and I," he moved his hand back and forth between us, "will send everyone home, order some sort of take-out, and sit at one of our houses until we have both music and lyrics that work." By that time, he had placed both of his hands on my shoulders and was talking to me as if I were stupid. "Unless, of course, that's too much work for you."

In hindsight, I probably was. "Oh."

Warren smirked at me. "Yeah."

"Well, I guess that works," I mused. Then I hit him. "You and your snark."

He made a face at me as we went back inside to tell everyone shop was packing up until further notice. Afterwards, making sure my guitar was tucked securely under my arm, we hopped onto Warren's motorcycle and sped off to my house.

When I asked why we couldn't go to his house, which I'd never seen before, he reasoned that he'd just have to drop me off at home anyway. I thought about it. Then I pouted but didn't argue.

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Upon reaching my house, I checked if my parents were home. They were watching Will and Grace. We left them alone and trudged up the separate staircase (as opposed to the staircase that went up to the second floor and the renters' space) to the attic. A.k.a.: My room.

I dropped all my things (wet clothes/music/jacket/purse) on my bed and motioned for Warren to do the same. Then, putting my guitar away, I fired up my laptop and the keyboard I keep in the corner instead of a bookshelf.

"Here," I pulled my desk chair out, "you can use this to write. It's easier than erasing stuff the old-fashioned way."

While Warren settled himself at the computer, I fished around for my MD recorder and switched it on. Heaven forbid we come up with something really, really good and not remember it afterwards.

"Okay," I settled down at the keyboard. "So, now what?"

"Um…" Warren leaned back, folding his hands behind his head. "Well, I guess we re-do everything."

I sighed, slouching. "Yeah." This was so not how I pictured this day going.

"So…what kind of song is it going to be?" he asked, sitting up quickly, hands poised to type.

I put my chin in my hand and squashed a couple of keys on the keyboard and blew some hair out of my face. "I don't know. A duet."

Warren rolled his eyes at me. "Yeah, I know that, Einstein. I meant what genre?"

"Well," I said, referring to his earlier attempt, "I don't know if this alternative-ish fuck authority theme is going to work." I fiddled with my earring. "We might try," I looked at him quickly to see if he might burn me for my suggestion, "something romance-themed." He was looking at me funny. And not funny in a good way. Funny as in a 'hearts-and-bunnies-fluffy-happily-ever-after-what-the-fuck-are-you-nuts?' way. "Because of the whole male-female aspect of the vocalists in question," I added quickly.

He was still looking at me funny, but without thoughts of murder dancing in his head. I hoped. Then he sighed. "I guess that makes sense."

"Okay." I looked around my room, not knowing what to do next.

"So, we're going to have to change the music too. Probably something more upbeat or else Maj won't have very much to do," Warren reasoned, tearing up pieces of scratch paper and shooting them into my Hello Kitty rubbish can.

"Okay," I replied, spinning around in my revolving chair. "So we're going for a…mid-tempo love duet, then?"

Warren ran his ring finger over his lower lip as he thought. "Yeah, that sounds about right."

I nodded. "You wanna feed me some lyric ideas and I'll see if I can put music to anything?" I asked, stopping myself and getting thoroughly disoriented as the room continued to spin.

"Sure." Warren readied his fingers over the keyboard again.

"When I try to speak, the words all fall away," he mused, keys clack-clacking as he typed, "and then you spread your wings and fly."

He looked at me for an opinion.

I nodded. "That sounds good…maybe like a transition from a verse to the chorus or the chorus to a verse." I tried out a few chords and then sang it back to him. "How's that?"

"Yeah, okay. Let's say that's the end of the first verse, so I'll be singing it, and then let's try something for the chorus." His brow furrowed as he searched for the words.

"How about…" I played a basic melody, sans chords and harmony. "It was the bridge for the other song and it's a little faster than the rest."

Warren pursed his lips and thought about it. "Yeah…yeah, like…_I never realized I was un-invincible_…" he rattled off. "I like it."

We worked for a couple more hours, then realized it was seven p.m. and we were hungry. I ran downstairs to order a pizza and we continued to brainstorm until food arrived.

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"Ohmigod_thankyou_," I said to the delivery guy when he brought the pizza. By then I was starving and a starving Yuri is a cranky Yuri. Tipping him, I shoved him out the door and ran the food, two-liter bottle of coke, and a bag of Cheetos I grabbed off the kitchen counter up to Warren.

"Good news," I announced. "Food!"

He grinned at me from my desk. "More good news; I finished the lyrics for the bridge."

I handed him a plate laden with a good amount of Cheetos and a couple slices of mushroom-sausage pizza. He gratefully accepted and I wasn't able to speak to him for the next few minutes. We were both a little too starving for chit-chat.

"So," I said after we'd polished off about half the pizza, "lemme see the bridge."

He moved aside as I hovered over his lap, pizza in one hand and soda in the other, reading the screen.

"I like this repetition," I pointed with my soda cup, forcing Warren to lean back. "Hallucination, indication, origination…and then visualizing, horizon…I guess that could work," I mused. Then I made a face. "But this last line sounds weird, even without the music." I pointed again. "I fall asleep to a new surmising?" I asked.

He shrugged. "I needed as 'zing' at the end…I don't know; what do you suggest?" He scooted back as I leaned over even more.

"Devising, advising, supervising," I rattled off.

Warren slouched. "No, no, and no."

"Um…chastising?" I offered, dancing away as he shot sparks at me.

"Try again," he replied, moving back to his original spot in front of the laptop. "Unsurprising…"

He hurriedly typed something out and then cursed colorfully. "Damnit," he finished and glared at my computer.

"Hey, don't kill my laptop because of your incompetence," I chastised.

He shot me a look that clearly said 'bite me.'

"Don't try to disguise your frustration with the lyrics in rage at my laptop," I admonished, hands on my hips.

Warren's eyes shot up and he turned to me. "Say that again."

I was confused. "What-?"

"Say that again," he repeated, staring at me intensely.

"O-kay…'Don't try to disguise your frus-'"

"There!" he exclaimed. "I got it!"

I was lost. One hundred percent well and truly lost. "Huh?"

He typed for a few seconds before turning to me with a flourish. Okay, it wasn't a flourish; but it was as much 'ta-da' as Warren would put into anything.

"_And while I'm visualizing a whole brand new horizon, I fall asleep and then there's just no disguising…_" I smiled. "It's perfect."

He grinned as cheekily as Warren Peace might be expected to grin cheekily at me. "I know."

I rolled my eyes, chucking a pillow from the bed at him. "Get back to work, slave," I ordered.

"Make me," he dared playfully.

I smirked. "Maybe when we're finished." Aah, promise hung thick in the air…or maybe it was just the scent of cheese pizza. Anyway, Warren opened his mouth to answer, probably with a one-liner which could have finished me off for good.

Just then, the phone rang.

"'ello?" I answered, snatching the phone off its hook. 'Someday,' I vowed to myself, 'I'll get a cordless in my room.'

"_Yuri?_" a tentative, and very familiar, voice asked. I groaned. This was exactly what I did not need at the moment.

"What do you want?" I asked, ignoring Warren who seemed to be asking what was going on.

"_Before you hang up, just…listen, okay? Just listen_." Yeah, I _really_ didn't need this. "_I'm sorry. I really am. And I'm glad you haven't hung up yet_."

"_What do you want_?" I asked again, this time with a little more force.

"_To explain things to you_," Nicholas continued. "_I swear I wasn't hitting on skanks that night at Ocean's. …Well, okay, so maybe I was, but I was mildly drunk. You know how I get when I drink._" Hoo-boy, did I know. That night at prom? Yeah, one after-party and I ordered him to let me drive, license or no license, or risk living without testicles for the rest of his life.

"Mm-hmm," I replied.

Meanwhile, Warren looked rather bored if the paper animal zoo he built was any indication. "Who is it?" he whispered.

'Ex-boyfriend,' I mouthed back. Warren frowned. 'My thoughts exactly.' Shrugging and rolling my eyes, I turned back to the task at hand.

"_And…I'm sorry. I really am. I know I fucked up, especially talking to Lisa like that, but-_" But I never heard what came after 'but' as Warren snatched the phone from my hand.

"Hey!"

"What do you want, asshole?" he demanded of the phone.

I slapped his arm. "Warren!"

He ignored me, concentrating on whatever insult Nick was dishing out. "Yeah? Yeah? Well-" he paused. I attempted to reclaim the phone and failed. "Shut the fuck up, you son of a bitch. And don't ever call here again!" Warrem slammed the phone down on the receiver and I winced. Then, collecting my wits, I slapped him again. Hard.

"What the _fuck _are you doing?" I demanded.

"I thought that guy stopped bothering you," he replied. "Why didn't you say he was still being a dickhead?"

"Because he wasn't being a dickhead! He was trying to explain himself until you so rudely interrupted us!" I rubbed the bridge of my nose. "He was trying to apologize, something you should be doing right now." Placing a hand on my hip, I eyed Warren expectantly.

"I'm not sorry; the guy was a total dick to you," he explained, reclaiming his seat at the computer.

"But he was trying to ap-o-lo-gize," I repeated. "Why do you care anyway?"

"Because I've seen this happen before, remember? When Will fucked up, who came to the rescue? Me." He let that sink in. "Of course, Will realized he'd been a dick _before_ seeing me 'n Layla. And why do _you_ care if he apologizes if he was such a jerk?"

"Maybe I'd forgive him if he apologized, you think?" I suggested, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Do you still like him?" he asked, a sobering tone entering his voice.

"I don't know," I replied truthfully. "We were good together. I don't know if we'd still be good together." I sighed, throwing my hands up. "I don't know; can we not talk about it, please?" I really didn't need Nick in my head and Warren asking about it while trying to get the song done. I'm all for multi-tasking, but it really depends on the task. And those? All together? Not so good.

Warren dropped the subject, instead asking me for a word that rhymed with reverie. I just… Ugh; at that moment, I just really hated boys.

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Okay, on to other important things. Thank yous go to:

**Seducing Reason**: I'm glad the OC pleases. And yay for Tenchi. It was my favorite show back in seventh grade. (Gah! Has it really been six years?)

**Off Dreaming**: I showed Chris the review page. He found it hilarious. Then he laughed at me. Poo on him. And thanks about Layla's characterization. She's gotta be a little mischievous to handle them boys.

**Nelle07**: Sighs. I can't wait for the talent show either. But it'll be…two and a half chapters until the performance if things stay on schedule. (Knock on wood.)

**War Admiral**: I love torturing Warren; it's one of my joys in life. As is the happy dance. Or, rather, whatever is causing the happy dance. Muahaha.

**Ghostly Green**: Yes, Warren is like a tootsie pop. Hard on the outside, but just a big softie if you know where to crack the shell. Teehee. Cheers!

**Suicidal Lips**: Aah. Name change caught me off guard there! But I'm very thankful that I'm a favorite (or, rather, the story is).

And, Chris has agreed to let me post his picture. I'll have the link in the next chapter, as well as links (if you want 'em, let me know) for the illustrations. They're pen and ink. My sister has also been commissioned to do a piece on the second to the last chapter (which may or may not be finished on time…), and she's a fantabulous artist. Much better than I (just don't tell her I said so).

I think that's everything.

W00t.

Love, SeraphStar.


	7. Deep in Denial: Warren

**AN: **Okay, so here we go with chapter seven. W00t. Okay, the links to all four pictures are at the bottom of the page. Standard disclaimer applies, I don't own Coca-Cola either. I wish I did.

This chapter was a fucking bitch to write. Haha, there are two lines straight from the proverbial horse's mouth in there! See if you can find them!

Please enjoy.

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**Deep in Denial: Warren  
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By the end of the Christmas break and after countless revisions, Yuri and I had cleaned up the whole song (meaning tried it out on a synthesizer with vocals to see if it actually worked). There was, of course, much hair-pulling and migraine-inducing unfortunate ness. But we dealt. Rehearsals were due to start again in Zach's basement the first Thursday after school recommenced. Oh joy. So there I was, driving over after the afternoon shift at the Lantern, hoping I didn't crap out because I may be able to sing, but Yuri was the nit-picky music aficionado. I cringed to think about what might happen if she was PMSing.

We set up the equipment: Maj's drum set, Ethan's keyboard, Yuri's electric guitar and amp. After a quick review for Will and Layla about how to use their instruments (I wondered briefly where Yuri got the shakers), we got down to business…and proceeded to suck.

"Guys…Guys!" Yuri waved her hands to get our attention. "Guys, you have to listen to each other. Just because you're playing the right stuff doesn't mean you're doing it right." She walked over to Maj. "Look…you have to listen to the timekeeper. Maj is keeping time here. Eighth notes on the snare and quarters on the base." Waving to Maj, she prompted her to start.

A steady rhythm filled the basement. Cue the wondrous applause at the sheer genius.

"Okay? See?" Yuri was going into teacher mode. As in 'starched collar, hair in a bun, pant-suit, bifocals, full-on lecture professor' mode. But with the freaky gold cat eyes which made it both worse and not so bad. "Now," she continued, it was like some twisted self-help video, "the introduction, up to where Warren starts singing, is just that: an introduction. Basically some chords and arpeggiating eighth notes that set up the structure of the song and help the audience get a feel for it. And then Ethan and I drop out so it's just percussion for the first couple lines before sneaking back in to really fill up the sound by the time we hit the first chorus, as well as backing up the vocals." She picked up her guitar, "Okay? So let's try it."

Maj counted off and everyone but me started playing. A little shaky, but at least they were kinda-sorta-almost together. For the most part. Caught up in this thought, I totally missed my entrance. Shit.

"Warren!" Yuri pouted at me. Fortunately I am immune to pouts. Will, Zach, and Ethan are not. They will succumb to the pout of any of our three female friends, as well as any other female who works hard enough at having a decent pout. I, however, after years of practice with pretty girls trying to skip out on the bill at the Lantern, can stare a pout down like nobody's business.

"What?"

"You have to come in on your entrance," she pointed out. Of course, how stupid of me.

"Sorry."

"Okay, let's try it again. Maj?" Yuri looked over her shoulder towards the set. Maj began counting off the intro again and, that second time, I hit my entrance. Unfortunately, the chorus sort of fizzled and died. I swear it wasn't my fault. Yuri hit a wrong note so Ethan got thrown off and then Maj missed a beat which threw Will and Layla for a loop. It really had nothing to do with me.

Yuri was looking very amusing, frustrated as she was. I stifled a chuckle that would have earned me a slap.

"Okay, here's a good place to start talking about musicality," she began. "So we're gonna start low," she bent down, crouching on the ground. "And then we're going to build it up for the chorus," she stood slowly. "Then come back down again…before building towards the second chorus." Yuri raised her arms. "And for the bridge, we'll sort of have this constant, circular motion," she began to wave her arms around, "before coming back to the chorus and filling up the sound while trickling out at the end, leaving just the vocals, base, and the hi-hat." She smiled, "Any questions?"

I'm sure there were loads, but Yuri is also sort of irritating in teacher-mode so no one spoke.

"Good." She turned to Maj and we started up again.

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This routine continued; every Tuesday and Thursday, without fail, we'd convene in Zach's basement and try to get things done. Of course, the first half hour would be setting up and general hanging around until someone decided we should get started and the last half hour was cleaning up and goofing off until someone decided it was probably time to go home. Or someone's parents called to say they were late for dinner. Whichever came first.

"Yuri, give it a rest; we're all tired and your scolding isn't doing anything," I mumbled when we stopped for the bazillionth time. She was harping on about pitch or intonation. Whatever, some shit like that. It wasn't like we were entering a world-competition; it was just the school talent show. Geez. She was making it out to be the pinnacle moment in history.

"Warren, I am a perfectionist. This is what I do. I'm sorry, deal with it." She stood, hands on her hips, facing me. Scowling, she turned to the rest of the guys, "Can we start it again from the top?"

We started again from the top. Actually, we were sounding pretty okay, but miss perfectionist wanted us to be, well, perfect. She wanted us to be hard-working, dedicated, eat-sleep-breathe the music aficionados. That was not something I wanted. Actually, that was not something I believed I was capable of. And, of course, every time we took a break and she checked her missed calls, there was something from a guy who's name rhymed with 'prick.' Excuse me for not approving. Especially when she actually took the time to return half of them. Not that I care, or anything; it's just, she can do better and I hate to see anyone settle for less than what they're capable of.

My chain of thought was broken as I realized my entrance cue was coming up. Taking a deep breath ('Utilize your diaphragm, Warren!'), I began the opening lines. "_I've always known you, looked right through you…_"

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Yuri was off, once again talking on her cell to the idiot boyfriend, when we took one of our breaks.

Swiping a Coke from the cooler , I looked over at Will. He looked back at me with an expression that probably mirrored my own. Except his said 'How the fuck did we get into this? Oh yeah, Layla. Remind me never to say yes without thinking things through again.' Mine was probably more along the lines of 'What a fucking bastard, sympathy ploy and all; I can't believe Yuri is _falling for it_.' And then something along the lines of 'Girls are dumb. Girls are dumb. Girls are _dumb_.' I collapsed into the only squishy armchair in that whole godforsaken basement and proceeded to revel in its luxury for one moment of ultimate peace. My moment of paradise was shattered when I felt someone sitting on the arm of _my _chair. Opening my eyes, I saw Yuri perched on said arm, a Coke in her hand as well.

"There's only one chair in here, Warren. You gotta share," she shrugged, sipping her drink.

I groaned. "Yuri, for once, sit somewhere else. Go sit on Will," I prompted, gesturing in his general direction: sprawled on the floor.

Yuri was eyeing me funny. Understandable, I guess. When I'm frustrated, I tend to say somewhat random things. "Why would I sit on Will?" she asked, giving me a quizzical look.

"I don't know," I whined; I'm allowed to be not-so-badass once in a while and she was _on my chair_. My Chair. "Go talk to your _boyfriend_ some more." I muttered, slouching even deeper into the squishy safety of the armchair.

"Nicholas is _not_ my boyfriend," she stated firmly. "Not anymore," she reaffirmed. As Maj might say, 'Tch-yeah.'

"Right," I sighed, looking at my watch. "I'd say it was time we packed up for the night anyway, wouldn't you?"

She glanced away from me, to Zach's wall clock. Five forty-five, P.M. "I guess." Standing, she vacated my chair (Yes!) and began putting her guitar away. The others soon followed suit. Me? I didn't have anything to put away, so I just sat there in the squishy goodness of the best armchair in the world. Completely (except for the tiny part that wanted to pummel a certain high school senior into the ground so hard he'd never again see the light of day) content. Someone sat on my chair again.

Groaning louder, I opened my eyes. "Will…" I glared at him. "What do you want?"

He gave me a look that clearly said he wasn't stupid. "What's wrong with you and Yuri?" he asked, somehow managing to sit Indian-style on the arm of an armchair. Oh yeah, he flies, never mind.

"Nothing." There really wasn't anything else to say. I mean, if Yuri was considering taking back an egomaniacal bastard that didn't really give a rip about her when he was drunk and all his inhibitions were down, ultimately showing his true colors, that was her problem. And I was entitled to thinking that it was a stupid idea and she should have better common sense. And that Girls Are Dumb.

He gave me a knowing look. Damn boy is psychic. Is there a super power this kid does not have? At least a little bit of? He flies, has super strength, I'm convinced he has pre-cog, now the psychic powers? _Plus_, he always wins at poker. I don't know how! He doesn't even have a good poker face! I grumbled something incoherent, even to myself.

Will looked over at the others, still helping Maj put away her percussion equipment. "There's something going on."

"Isn't it Layla's job to be the unofficial counselor for us all?" I asked, attempting some dry humor.

"She's busy," he reasoned. "So what's up?"

I muttered incoherently again. "I'll give you a ride home," I replied.

"But I can just-" Will began.

"I'll give you a ride home," I repeated, a little more force this time. He got the message. And I ruled out psychic as one of his other, lesser powers.

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In the car, driving toward Will's neighborhood, I vented as one can only vent to one's best friend. "Yuri's being really…annoying," I started. "All her dictatorship crap with rehearsals."

Will listened, punctuating with a, "Mm-hmm."

"And then, on break, she's always on the goddamn phone with her goddamn ex-boyfriend," I continued, speeding a little more than necessary to make it through a yellow light. I noticed Will grip the armrest a little more. So I get road rage, so sue.

"Mm-hmm."

"And you just know he's a fucking jerk-off. Actually admitting to 'hitting on skanks'? He doesn't even have the class to call them women?" I slammed on the brakes, just narrowly avoiding running a red. "Sorry," I muttered out of courtesy.

"No problem," Will squeaked back.

"She can do better," I grumbled. "Girls are _dumb_."

Will was giving me a look that said _I_ was the dumb one. Not so. _She_ was the idiot getting back together with her stupid ex-boyfriend who treated her like shit. And anyway, I didn't care. Because, as previously mentioned, girls were dumb.

Pulling into his driveway, I glanced sideways at him. "What?"

He smiled wryly at me. Not a look you often see on Will Stronghold's face. Unless he's beating you at poker for the millionth time. Anyway. "Well, don't barbeque me for saying this," he began, "but, to quote you, 'Was falling for her before or after the Nicholas Incident?'"

I blanched. "There was no falling involved. I just think the guy's an asshole." End of story.

"Oh, come on," Will grinned, "it's so obvious now. Why you're mad at her for no reason, why you hate Nicholas more than the rest of us." He started laughing. "You've got it bad."

"Stronghold," I threatened.

"Admit it," he prompted, "you like her."

"I don't-"

"Hey, I have an idea," Will mused, hands folded behind his head, apparently reveling in the fact that he could teach me a few things about the world. Not. "Why don't you serenade her. It'll be real cute." He chuckled. "My cheri amour, pretty little one that I adore," he crooned, grinning.

"Shut it, Stronghold," was my reply.

"Please, accept the inevitable for once. You like her. As in you want her to be all 'Oh, Warren'," his voice took on a distinct falsetto tone, "'you're so handsome with your big, strong muscles, and-' Ow!"

I punched him. There was no alternative. "Fine! I like her. Now will you please get out of the goddamn car?"

He grinned again, grabbing his bag and opening the passenger side door. "Thanks for the ride."

As I pulled out of the driveway, I could distinctly hear him whistling 'My Cheri Amour'.

Idiot.

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Upon arriving home, I kicked off my shoes and called hello to my mom. She answered back from her home office and I trudged up to my room. Homework awaited. Somewhere in the middle of my essay interpreting a novel of my choice (in this case, Mary Shelley's Frankenstein), and incorporating the trials and suffering of the main character into a mirror for everyday superhero life, I had an epiphany.

I really was crushing on Yuri.

Fucking hell.

Running off a train of expletives in my mind, I took a deep, calming breath. And let out that same string of curses for anyone within ten feet to hear. Thankfully, my mother was not one of those chosen few. But the birds nestled outside my window sure took off in a hurry.

Weighing my options, I realized I was in some deep shit. I could just leave it alone and hope it went away. But, of course, 'to let true love remain unspoken is the quickest route to a heavy heart'. Fucking fortune cookies. Or I could wait for her to realize that her idiot boyfriend was an idiot, in which case she'd need condoling. And who better to condole than yours truly? But that was the coward's way out. And who said Yuri'd wise up anyway? Girls were dumb, remember? I sighed heavily. It was not a good day.

Looking up at the corkboard above my desk, I focused on a small piece of paper. Every once in a while, I'd keep interesting or insightful fortunes from the cookies at the Lantern. Amid the stupid ones (You Love Chinese Food.) and the just plain weird ones (A nice cake is waiting for you.) were a few jewels of thought and inspiration. Focusing on one in particular, I closed my eyes.

"Let your heart guide you. It whispers, so listen closely." Littlefoot's mother, "The Land Before Time." I'm a closet geek, so sue me.

Taking another deep breath, I looked over at my computer monitor. That paper wasn't going to write itself, but…

Mentally kicking myself, I surfed over to and typed in the search 'love ballads.' As I browsed through the myriad of mushy lovey-dovey crap that loaded the web, searching for just one that wasn't so…pathetic, I thought of the downstairs closet. …and my dad's old guitar.

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Now to thank-yous:

**Lady11Occult**: Thank you. Yes, I did do the rhyming on my own. It was a pain in the ass, but I'm very proud of the end product which you'll all see in chapter…nine.

**LadyKida**: Well, here are the links for pictures! I hope they do not disappoint. And thanks for warm fuzzies!

**Catie**: Plot is so crucial. I'm glad you think so too. This chapter was difficult to write because of the characterization and major plot points, but I really wanted to get them all in there.

**Off Dreaming**: No, I don't think Chris'll draw on his ceiling. He thinks this whole shpiel is hilarious, though. Yes, Yuri is being sort of silly, but girls are sort of silly sometimes, too. I should know.

Also, as I mentioned before, there are two lines in Warren's thoughts up there that came straight from Chris. Can you find them?  
Just a side note before you see the pictures:As we can't actually post links, this is the prefix for all, minus the spaces (I'm sorry, I know they're a pain in the ass), then just stick the gibberish behind it in your little web address bar.

img . photobucket . com / albums / v514 / nanashitenshi /

**chapteroneillustrationsmall . jpg**

Or: In the hall, by the lockers...  
As my friend, Richard, put it: i'm really sorry, but the first drawing looks so damn perverted. "hey, can i reach down there?" says the guy. "whoa whoa take it easy big boy!" says the girl. bahahahaha i was laughing so hard.My friend Richard is perverted. Ignore him.

**chapterthreeillustrationsmall . jpg**

Or: The Love Sonnet  
Who can figure out what the ambigram in the lower, left corner says? It also has the poem in the background.

**chapterfourillustrationsmall . jpg**

Or: Karaoke!  
Okay, this one kind of sucked. The proportions were all crap. But anyway.

And the one you've all been waiting for:

**Chris:**

DSCN0280 . jpg  
So this is Chris' regular face. Part 'I'm tired' and part 'Don't fuck with me, kid.'

chris . jpg  
This is Chris' half eyebrow-raised, I'm so sexy because all the girls like me, w00t face. Just for contrast.So yay, please leave a review so Chris knows what you think of him (and so I know what you thought of the chapter).

Love, SeraphStar.


	8. The Nick of Time: Will

**AN: **Omigod, I'm back! After…like…a two month hiatus. I'm so sorry, everyone. I had the worst writer's block imaginable. But I'm back on track now and, hopefully, with finals soon to be over, I'll be able to write more. Yay! Standard disclaimer applies.

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**The Nick of Time: Will**

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The following Thursday, exactly eight days before the talent show, we found ourselves in Zach's basement and slightly shaky. We finished the opening bars and got all the way to the bridge before Yuri stopped us. I groaned inwardly; we kept forgetting the God forsaken slow down right before the last chorus. Shutting my eyes tight, I looked over at Layla. She smiled back at me, obviously having fun. I couldn't fathom why. Maybe because she was a girl and girls liked that sort of thing?

"Okay, guys. Let's try from the beginning of the bridge one more time, and then back to the top for a run through," Yuri suggested. "Then I promise we'll go on break."

Strengthened by the thought of ten minutes away from the little egg shakers, I gritted my teeth and focused hard. The previous week Yuri had taken away the music and made us play by memory. Her justification? Real musicians in stage bands didn't play with their heads buried in their music. I was tempted to point out that we weren't real musicians, but feared for my life and kept my mouth shut.

Three and a half minutes later, I was free! Free to steal a soda and some potato chips from the coffee table in the middle of the room and swipe the chair that Warren so coveted. As I sank into the squishy goodness of the chair, someone tapped my shoulder. Swatting them away, I tried to sink further into the comfort of the chair. The tapping returned. I waited a few seconds before opening my eyes and seeing Warren eyeing me out for sitting in the chair.

"Get your own chair," I mumbled.

"Stronghold…" he threatened.

"What?" I tried to roll over and nearly fell out.

He glared half-heartedly at me. "That's my chair."

"No it isn't," I replied. "Oh, so did you decide what to do about your _Cheri amour_?" I asked, wagging my eyebrows at him. "Hmm?"

Warren's glare intensified. "No." He waited a beat. "Get out of the chair."

"Aww, why not?" I ignored his order and decided to probe deeper. "Chicken?" I smirked.

"NO. Now get out of the damn chair."

"You are chicken, aren't you?" I asked, chuckling to myself. It wasn't every day Warren Peace was afraid to do something, even if it was as scary as asking someone out.

"No, I'm not," he replied stubbornly.

"So where is she now? And how come you aren't putting the moves on her?" I grinned at him.

"She's talking to her _boyfriend_," he spat venomously.

I sat up. "Aha. So you're jealous?"

He scoffed at me. "I'm not jealous of that dipshit."

I leaned back again, "Yeah, you are."

"I am not."

"You are." I waited for the retort. "Want me to ask her if she likes him back?"

More silence.

I laughed again. "No problem. That's what friend are for."

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Yuri and I had English together. That and P.E. were the two mixed classes that Hero and Hero Support shared. Thankfully, I snagged a seat next to her near the back of the room. Just as thankfully, we were peer editing our latest essays. Dr. Payne gave us the whole class but, realistically, it only took us about twenty minutes to get through everything and, so long as we were quiet, the last half hour was like a free period. It was during this time that I executed my conniving and brilliant plan.

"So," I began.

Yuri looked up from her novel, The Martian Chronicles, and stared at me quizzically. "Yes?"

"…good book?" I asked, grinning.

Giving me a skeptical glance, she returned to reading. "Yes. I've read it before; Ray Bradbury is always good."

"Good." A silence ensued. "So," I said again.

"Yes?" she answered without looked up.

"How are things with you in Nicholas-land?"

Shutting her book, Yuri stared at me. "Excuse me?"

"I was just wondering, being as you're always on the phone with him at rehearsals. Patched things up, have we?" I teased.

"…no."

"Oh." I leaned in, "Whyever not?"

"It's complicated," she replied, obviously finished with the subject. Unfortunately for her, I wasn't quite done yet.

"Care to share?" I smiled wide, hopeful.

"I told you; it's complicated," she repeated.

"I've got time," was my witty answer as I looked at the clock.

Another skeptical look crossed Yuri's face before she sighed. "It's just… I don't know." She waved her hand in front of her face. "We were good together, you know?"

I nodded, completely not understanding.

"We were a good couple. And he's a good guy, most of the time. He's just…a little flighty." Yuri shook her head. "I know he wants to try again, but the thing is, we've tried again before." She paused for a beat. "With the same results."

"Do you still like him?" I inquired subtly.

"I don't know. I-" stopping, she eyed me, as if wondering how much to divulge. "I've…It's like Maj and Zach. They're always fighting and always making up. That's how we were. But it was always me yelling at him, not me doing things wrong. So I don't know if it's worth it. You know, to take him back."

"That's not answering my question," I pointed out.

"I don't know if I still like him. I really don't know. I told Warren this; we were good together, and I don't know if we'd still be good together or not. Before, I could keep an eye on him, when we went to the same school. Now…now every time he can't make it to a date, I'll wonder. I don't want to be like that." Yuri sighed, frustrated. "He says he can change, but I just don't believe him."

"Why don't you get a new boyfriend?" I suggested.

Yuri laughed. "Like who?" Shaking her head, she smiled ruefully. "Boys don't ask girls like me out. The ones who know me see me as 'one of the guys' and the boys who ask me out after twenty seconds are obviously asking for the wrong reasons." She smiled again. "That's just the way it is."

"How do you know?" I asked.

She shrugged. "That's just the way it is with me," Yuri replied, going back to her book.

I shook my head. My work was done, but boy, was she in for a surprise.

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Sidling into the Paper Lantern the next time Warren had a shift, Friday night, I tried to tone down the shit-eating grin that must have been on my face. I really did. But I was_ so_ good. I mean, come on. I'd basically gotten the girl to tell me her deepest, darkest secrets. Okay, okay, so maybe not. But it was significantly more information than her beau-to-be had gleaned. So I had that shit-eating grin for a reason. A damn good reason.

"Stronghold," Warren greeted me callously, on his way to table…eight, I think, to pick up the finished dishes.

I waved in response. "Time for a chat?" I asked when he started back for the kitchen, bus tray in hand.

"Maybe after the dinner rush," he grunted, just catching the brimming bin of dishes as it slipped.

"All right," I waved again, trying to decide between lemon chicken, my staple at Chinese restaurants, and that garlicky-smells-to-heaven egg thing that Layla was always going on about. I chose the chicken.

After about an hour, I was going to give Mei a _really _good tip, I promise, Warren slid into the seat next to me and drained my water glass. "Hey, Stronghold."

I stared at my empty glass for a few seconds, then sighed. "Hey."

"So, what brings you to the Chinese restaurant, hm?" he asked, sounding slightly amused.

"I talked to Yuri about Nicholas."

He perked up. "You did?" Leaning forward, he got serious…er…seriouser. Because, seriously, when is Warren ever _not_ serious? Anyway. "Well?"

"Well what?" I asked innocently.

Warren glared at me. "Well, what did she say, you dumbass?"

"She told me…things," I replied vaguely, smirking. It was not every day I got to smirk at Warren Peace. Usually it was the other way around. I was going to draw out this moment for as long as humanely possible.

"Cut the crap, Stronghold. Tell me what she told you." Sitting back, he folded his arms and did The Stare. With capital letters. You know, the I'm-capable-of-ripping-you-to-shreds-with-my-bare-hands-and-I-know-it stare. I hate that one.

"Aw, fine. She says she doesn't want him back; happy?" I sighed, defeated.

"Anything else?" he asked, obviously hinting at something.

"Um…guys ask her out for the wrong reasons?" I tried. "Oh. Or guys just don't ask her out, period."

Warren got another look on his face. The one that said I was being stupid. "What?" I asked, totally lost.

"Does she know about me, you idiot."

I blinked. "Of course she knows about you, I mean, she's your friend isn't she?" I was not understanding this conversation.

"Stronghold," Warren began, "I don't know how you can be so…insightful and…just really stupid at the same time." When my blank expression didn't change, he sighed. "Does she know about, you know, me…well, you know." He rolled his eyes at me.

"Huh?"

Scratching his left eyebrow, Warren got that look that said his patience was running thin. "Does she know I like her?" he asked finally.

Oh. "Of course not," I replied.

Looking irritated, Warren stood and looked at me with pity. "Stronghold, you're an idiot sometimes."

And this is the thanks I get. Huh.

**  
**

At our second to the last rehearsal ever (Hallelujah), I pulled Warren aside during one of our oh-too-few breaks for a little man-to-man talk. Or something.

"What do you want, Stronghold?" he asked, obviously irritated. I could guess the reason why. Yuri was on her cell phone, probably talking to public enemy no. 1 in Warren's book.

"Have you thought about the singing thing?" I asked.

"The singing that we're doing on Friday? Gee, it hadn't crossed my mind," he replied, then hit me upside the head. "Of course I'm thinking about it, you idiot."

"Ow!" I rubbed my ear, "That's not what I meant."

"Oh, do tell."

"Have you thought about the _singing to Yuri _thing yet?"

For a few moments, there was silence. "You mention that again, and I'll barbeque you, understand?"

"Oh, come on," I began. "Hey, I've got an idea. Let's make a bet. Okay?"

"…what kind of bet?"

"How about…if we win the talent show, you have to sing to her. If we don't, you're free and clear to let her go, which is what you've been doing all along."

Warren glared at me. "What do you mean, 'what I've been doing all along'?"

"Well, you're not putting any moves on her, that's for sure," I observed, dryly. "Oh, come on," I said again. "It's just one song. You know she likes your voice. Just do it. Just say, 'Okay, Will, I'll take that bet'."

A look that screamed 'I'm unconvinced' seemed to take over. "Yeah, right."

"Come. On."

"No."

"You're gonna let her go," I warned. "It sounds like she's seriously considering taking Prince Charming back unless _someone_ convinces her that there are better fish in the sea…"

Silence. Silence was good when you argued with Warren. It meant that he couldn't think of anything to say that would counteract your point.

"Well…?"

"All right, fine. Shut up." He glared at me, knowing I was right. Haha, I loved being right.

A voice interrupted my gloating. "Come on, you guys, one last run through and we'll call it a night!"

That nice gloating feeling disappeared. I picked up my dreaded egg shakers and sighed.

**  
**

Now for the thank-yous.

**Dark Dragoon**: I'm so sorry…the update wasn't soon at all. But here's the next chapter, better late than never, right?

**Off Dreaming**: Haha. Actually, Chris thinks I'm mentally unstable for writing fan fiction. Shows how much _he_ knows about stuff.

**Nelle07** and **Lady11Occult**: I'm trying to manage squeezing Nick into the talent show chapter (next one), which means I'm reworking the setting for that one. But I agree, it's good confrontation.

Also, **VERY IMPORTANT STUFF!**

I'm holding a casting call of sorts for talent show acts. I need a female singer, a male singer, a magician, a stand-up comedian, a dancer/acrobat, and something interesting, like a juggler or plate spinner or musician playing something other than the guitar/piano.

Send me a brief description (physical and personality), name, and act if you're interested.

Much love, SeraphStar.


	9. A Night to Remember: Layla

**AN: **Aah. This one actually only took me two days to write…with sufficient inspiration. The song is in here (finally) and the last scene contains light swearing, hence the rating. Standard disclaimer applies. I do own Nicholas (the sleazy bastard) and the song, which I've titled "Reverie." Enjoy.

**  
**

**  
**

**A Night to Remember: Layla**

**  
**

Friday night. The school had actually rented an auditorium for us to perform in, down by the mall. Of course, the Weatherton Boarding Academy did not sound _quite_ as impressive as Sky High, but they were going to get the trophies engraved later. As in, after the competition and certainly after the 'regular people', like relatives and others not in on the super (hero) secret, had left.

We stood behind the curtain, setting up the instruments as the act before us took the stage. We, the Social Misfits, as Maj had (so rightly?) dubbed us, were almost ready for our first gig. Zach was glowing slightly, as he tends to do when nervous, but what made it sad was that his glow was a bit…green. Maj was talking to him, though. And I had another problem to deal with.

"Ohmigod, ohmigod, _ohmigod_," Yuri hyperventilated. "We're not ready yet, Layla. Kill me now." She fiddled mercilessly with her guitar, probably thinking of trying to tune it again…for the tenth time in as many minutes.

"Now, Yuri," I said matter-of-factly. "Everything will be perfectly fine. We'll go on, play, and have a great time." Smiling, I looked over at her. She still looked like her cat had died.

"Geez." We all looked up to Warren, who'd been relegated to checking to see what the audience was like. When he noticed us staring, he shrugged. "It's packed. Who'd you guys _invite_, anyway?" After a moment's hesitation, he glanced at Yuri and I. "Nicholas is out there."

"_What_?"

"Warren," I chided, "did you _have_ to tell her that?"

He had the gall to smirk at me. "Of course; it's what I do."

I rolled my eyes at him.

Ethan sighed from his position behind the electric keyboard. "Good luck, guys."

The crowd began applauding and we could hear the act before us, a stand-up comedy routine courtesy of Larry, beginning. It sounded like he had a dummy with him, too.

Will walked up behind me, placing his hand on my shoulder. "We'll be fine."

I laughed. "I'm not that one that needs convincing."

He shrugged, grinning. "But it makes me feel better."

Shaking my head, I looked over at Yuri. She was peeking out from behind the curtain and I knew who she was looking for. Sighing, I pulled her away from the stage-fright inducing crowd.

"Don't worry about him," I suggested.

"But-"

"Just don't. Have fun. Play, sing, do what you do and just don't think about him." Smiling, I half-dragged her over to where the rest of the group had gravitated.

"Okay everyone," Maj began as we huddled in a circle before the curtain went up. "Good luck, have fun, no sweat."

Zach smiled…or grimaced. "It'll be…good."

"No doubt about it," added Ethan.

I felt Will nod behind me. "We're awesome."

I grinned, having to agree. "Thanks for agreeing to this, guys. It'll be so much fun."

Picking up her guitar, Yuri strummed a chord. "Yeah. I guess." Rolling her eyes when Will poked her, she laughed. "Okay; it _will_ be awesome."

"Warren came up behind us, leaning over between Maj and Zach. "We are going to kick some serous ass."

Well. Who could argue with that?

**  
**

Taking our positions, the curtain rose. I gasped. Warren hadn't been kidding when he said the auditorium was packed. It looked like the entire school, their parents, and the extended family had taken time out of their busy schedules to see…us. Will squeezed my hand reassuringly. Looking over at him, I smiled. We'd be fine.

The hall went quiet. Maj counted us off and Ethan started up the keyboard, arpeggiating eighth notes to set the mood. Zach joined him after a few moments and Will, Maj, and I quickly followed suit. Yuri picked out the first few bars of the melody and smiled back at us. Turning back to face the crowd, we all looked over at Warren.

"_I've always known you, looked right through you,  
I never notice the obvious_," he sang breathily, sexy-rockstar just oozing from his persona. In the audience, a few girls screamed his name.

Warren continued, unfazed. "_Do you remember the way we danced at midnight?  
No one was watching, baby it felt so right._"

Smiling over at Yuri, who was also grinning ear-to-ear, Warren grabbed the mic from the stand. Walking to the front of the stage, he knelt down, reaching for a lucky young woman.

"_But when I try to speak, the words all fall away;  
And then you spread your wings and fly…_"

Maj was in her element, picking up the tempo as we dove into the chorus.

"_I never realized I was uninvincible,_" Warren sang. The crowd roared.  
"_Though I live my life without you everyday._"

Zach looked over at Will and I, nodding his head with the music. We grinned back.

"_I fight the feeling you might be a real-life fantasy,\  
A fancy daydream or an alternate reality_," Warren trailed off, returning to his mic stand.

Leaning closer, he cupped the microphone in his hands and growled.

"_My reverie…_"

The energy settled as Yuri moved to her own mic, beginning the second verse.

"_On those dark nights, when the rain falls,  
I always wish for something else,_" caught up in the music, she stared wistfully into the audience. Finding _something_, she quickly turned her eyes back to Warren, who smiled reassuringly.

Eyes closed, Yuri's voice flowed, "_I still remember my hero and my lifeline,  
And when you asked 'who', why couldn't I just say 'you'?_"

Swaying slightly, she concentrated on her guitar.

"_If I had the chance to show how much I care,  
Would I tell you, would I dare?_"

Looking again at the audience, a fiery determination took over her features. Warren caught her eye, nodded, and the second chorus seemed to explode.

"_I never realized I was uninvincible,  
Though I live my life without you everyday._"

They were smiling at each other, having fun…being awesome.

"_I fight the feeling you might be a real-life fantasy,  
A fancy daydream or an alternate reality…_"

Yuri turned back to the audience, letting out a soft harmony.

"_My reverie…_"

Taking his mic, Warren moved closer to Yuri. "_Is this hallucination  
An ac'tual indication-_"

Joining him, Yuri leaned in.

"_Of the dreams that stem from  
Your origination._"

Taking the solo, Yuri slanted back to her mic.

"_And while I'm visualizing  
A whole brand new horizon-_"

Joining her again, Warren abandoned his own microphone in favor of sharing Yuri's.

"_The castles in the sky show  
There's just no disguising…_"

Then it was just Maj and Yuri's voice.

"_When the past is gone and all the doors have closed,_" she began.

And the music swelled.

Then Warren joined Yuri and their voices soared.

"_Do we know who holds the keys_…"

"_I never realized I was uninvincible,_" they sang together.  
"_Though I live my life without you everyday._"

Warren was back at the front of the stage, touching hands of screaming girls. Turning back to grin at us.

"_I fight the feeling you might be a real-life fantasy,_" they continued, Yuri laying it on thick with her guitar.  
"_A fancy daydream or an alternate reality._"

We built up another wave and sent it crashing toward the audience.

"_I never realized I was uninvincible  
Thought I live my life without you, nothing's real_."

Retreating from the adoring fans, Warren reached us again, actually grinning.

"_I fight the feeling you might be a real-life fantasy,  
A fancy daydream or an alternate reality…_"

Yuri smiled tentatively.

"_My reverie…_"

Will and I faded out.

"_My reverie…_"

Yuri and Zach strummed their last chords.

"_My reverie…_"

Maj and Ethan finished to total silence. Then, a roar of applause. Everyone was beaming. Collecting ourselves just enough to take a bow, we exited the stage for a huge group hug.

"See, that wasn't so bad," Zach mused. Maj punched him.

_You_ were the nervous one," she reminded him.

Oh, shut up; we were _so_ awesome." Will and Warren high-fived for the umpteenth time.

**  
**

They lined us up, all nine acts, on the stage. Grasping Will's hand fiercely, I was smiling so hard that I thought my face would break. Yuri seemed to be in a similar predicament and was bouncing on the balls of her feet.

"Please, please, please, please, please," Zach chanted under his breath as they brought the trophies out. Maj pinched to shut him up.

"Dude, chill; we _so_ kicked ass," Warren stated plainly.

"Once again," Coach Boomer began, "we'd like to thank our judges and our audience for being here and supporting Weatherton Academy."

A faint applause.

"And how about another hand for all of our performers!"

Thunderous applause.

"All right, we've kept you waiting and here are your results." Picking up a trophy from the stand, Boomer cleared his throat. "Third place goes to…Jessica Ellesworth!"

Jesse? Bouncy ball Jesse? I looked around for her. She dashed up to Boomer, still in her dance costume, giddy. Waving to the audience, she took the trophy and returned to the line of performers. We gave her high-fives and congratulations, nervously waiting for the second-place announcement.

"Second place…" Boomer…boomed. "Goes to…Luke Barton!"

Acid Spit walked up to the podium dressed in a…tuxedo! Tapping a 'magic wand' against Boomer's hat, he produced a piece of paper. Unfolding it, we could see it read 'Thank you!' Grinning, he took his trophy and moved back to the line. High-fiving Tracy Berdeaux, he settled in to wait.

"Now," Boomer looked over his notes again. "First place."

We held our breath. Zach was chanting 'please' again. Maj smacked him upside the head and he shut up.

"First place goes to…"

Boomer held the dramatic pause for as long as humanely possible and then some.

"The Social Misfits!"

I screamed. Maj and Yuri screamed. The guys were all high-fiving each other. Will kissed my cheek. It was pandemonium. People were congratulating us. Maj and Zach were actually kissing. Ethan was hugging Yuri, Yuri was hugging Ethan, Will was high-fiving Warren again, and I was in shock.

"Guys," Larry tapped my shoulder. "Guys! You have to get your trophy!"

We all stopped. Then beelined for Boomer.

**  
**

Later, the backstage after-party in full swing, we got to relax. The school had catered food from a Mexican place down the street and…I think his name was Sean, a telekinetic senior, was deejaying. Will sidled up, nonchalantly placing his arm around me. I grinned up at him.

"So, how you doing?" he asked.

I nodded. "Fine. Where's everyone else?"

"Um…" He thought for a moment. "Well, Maj and Zach are dancing and I think Ethan is talking to Larry about the pros and cons of some science-y stuff. Warren's over on the couch. And I don't know where Yuri is."

I patted his head. "Good boyfriend."

Will rolled his eyes at me, but smiled good-naturedly.

"Hey!"

I turned to see Zach and Maj heading for us, a cup of punch in each of their hands.

"Thanks." Will relieved them of the two extras, handing one to me. We gravitated to Warren, who didn't seem willing to forgo the couch and chat with us. Curled up next to him was Yuri. Will proceeded to tease her for her shortness which earned him a well-deserved slap on the arm. By that time, Ethan had finished talking to Larry and wandered over.

"So, guys…first place," said Zach, grinning smugly.

There were murmurs of agreement and more high-fives. I looked at Maj, who was looking at me, and we both sighed. Boys.

Someone pushed past me. "Scuse me."

Yuri's eyes widened. "What are you doing h-"

"Can I talk to you?" asked Nicholas.

"You're not supposed to be here," she stated firmly, looking around to make sure no one was using their powers. They weren't…yet.

"Yeah, I know. I snuck in through the back; can I just _talk_ to you?" he asked again.

Shaking her head irritably, Yuri looked up at him. "Come on," she said, standing up and grabbing his arm. "Guys, I'll just be a minute." So saying, she dragged Nicholas out to the back entrance. We followed them to the door, but Yuri shut it firmly behind her.

An awkward silence followed.

"Dipshit," Warren snorted. Maj and I glared at him. "What? He is. Creep." He glared at Will. "Shut up, Stronghold."

Will held up his hands in defense. "I didn't say anything."

"Yeah, but you were thinking it."

"Guys," Maj stopped them, leaning toward the door. "…I think they're fighting."

We all leaned closer. Maj was right; whatever they were doing, it most definitely wasn't kissing and making up.

The yelling got louder.

"Guys, maybe we should check up on them," Ethan suggested. Warren was already yanking the door open.

A slap echoed through the still night air. Yuri was glaring hard at Nicholas, breathing heavily. "You take that _back_," she ordered furiously. You could cut the tension with a knife.

Nicholas reached up to touch his face, wincing. "Bitch," he whispered. "And I'm not taking anything back because _it's all true_."

Yuri strode briskly toward him, "Take it back."

Nicholas caught her hand before it reached his face a second time. "No. You went to your rich new _Boarding Academy_ and your new 'Social Misfit' friends and forgot all about us _normal_ people, didn't you?" he sneered.

"_You_ were the one cheating!" she reminded him, yanking her hand. Nicholas' grip held firm.

"Well, are you surprised? I had to do _something_ on the weekends since I never saw you anymore."

Yuri slapped him again with her free hand. "_I_ never cancelled dates. You did that all on your own. And let me go!" she yanked hard again.

Warren started for them, but Will held him back. "Let her do this," he chided. Warren grumbled, but stayed put.

Yuri stomped on Nicholas' foot, hard, and wrenched her hand from his grip. They glared at each other in the dim street light.

"Bitch," Nicholas whispered again.

Yuri massaged her wrist, holding her ground. "And you're an ass. It just took me a really, _really _long time to figure it out," she spat venomously.

Nicholas advanced, "You-"

"I didn't do _anything_ wrong except ignore how much of an asshole you are when you're not trying to get something you want. And I've had enough. I told you before and I'm telling you now, we are no longer _we_," Yuri affirmed, shaking.

Nicholas glared at her again, but seemed to sense that he'd lost. He whispered "Bitch" one more time, then turned to walk away. We closed the door and waited for Yuri to come back.

She entered softly, pissed off and depressed. "Hi, guys."

"You okay?" I asked.

Yuri nodded. "Yeah, I'll be okay." She sighed.

Warren placed his hand on her shoulder. "Come on," he said quietly, "I'll take you home."

**  
**

O-kay. So, thanks to all for reading. There are only…two more chapters left! (I consolidated some stuff.) Nevertheless, it'll be…interesting. I'm heavily debating parts of the next plot point. Will Warren sing? And, if so, what song? Bwaha. Should be fun, no?

Thank-yous go to **horsebookwork**, **smokeydog**, **Off Dreaming**, and **Lady11Occult**.

And now, I am le tired. So good night.

Love, SeraphStar.


	10. Taking Chances: Warren

**AN**: Wow. I'm so sorry that this took so darn long. I had it all in my head and it just wouldn't go to paper. Geez. Standard disclaimer applies. I wish I owned the song…

**  
**

**Taking Chances: Warren**

**  
**

We drove in silence. For once, I was sort of glad I'd driven my car instead of the bike. On the bike, with Yuri half wrapped around me so as not to fall off, I'd probably have lost it and done something stupid. Like kiss her right after an extremely messy breakup with her fucked up ex-boyfriend. I flipped the radio on, channel surfed, and flipped it off again. Yuri stared out the window. She sighed. The silence was thick…and awkward. And I really wondered what she and Nicholas had been saying before we started eavesdropping.

"Are you okay?" I asked quietly, glancing over at Yuri.

She glanced back emotionlessly. "Watch the road."

"Yuri…"

"I don't want to talk about it," she stated firmly.

I drove some more, almost missing a stop sign. Yuri sighed for the umpteenth time during the ride. It was driving me nuts. "Seriously, Yuri," I tried again. "Are you okay?"

"I don't want to talk about it," she said again, monotone.

"I know you don't want to talk about it, but you should vent and I'm sort of trying to help here," I replied, "instead of being my usual asshole self, so can you just take advantage of that and let me help you?" I pulled off to the side of the road and let the car idle.

Yuri glared at me. "I don't need your help and I _don't_ want to talk about it. So leave me alone," she pouted, steadfastly staring out the car window and refusing to look at me.

I was taken aback. Wasn't this what friends _did_ for each other? Listen when shit happened? "Yuri…"

"I said I didn't want to talk about it. God, are all boys this _stupid_?" she spat disgustedly.

"I'm not stupid," I retorted, a bit peeved. "I'm trying to he-"

"I don't want your help. I don't need it. And I don't need your sympathy just because I just officially broke up with my stupid ex-boyfriend," she huffed. "So _drop it_."

"But-"

"Warren, shut up."

I shut up. And re-entered traffic. Girls were dumb. And I sort of hated it. Because she was just sitting there, all depressed, still looking like the sweet, dorky Yuri I'd ended up starting to maybe-sort-of-fall-for, but better because we'd all sort of dressed up for the performance. So she looked all _pretty_ and sweet and dorky… And I had to start driving again otherwise I'd have done something _really _stupid, like tell her she deserved better and, what do you know, better equals me. And, fuck, girls were dumb.

And I just…really, really didn't want to be the school badass for five minutes and just… I didn't know.

"Boys are _stupid_," Yuri said again.

"I'm not-"

"_You're_ not stupid," she sighed. "You, Will, Ethan, and Zach aren't stupid; you're my _friends_. There's a difference. But _boys _are fucking stupid."

I blanched. Yuri swore. Yuri _never_ swore. Not having time to contemplate Yuri cussing, I pulled up in front of her house.

"Thanks for the ride, Warren," she sighed dejectedly, opening the door of my P.O.S. car.

"Welcome," I replied softly. "You sure you're-"

"_Yes_. I'll be fine. Nicholas is a dick and boys are stupid. But you guys are great and…you're great Warren." She leaned over and hugged me awkwardly. "Thanks."

I watched her walk into her house and swore. Colorfully.

I wasn't stupid, even though I was a guy, because I was her friend. A _great _friend. A great _friend_. Fuck.

Backing out of the driveway, I started the drive home.

"Fuck."

**  
**

In the safety of my bedroom, I sat at the desk and sighed. Hoisting up the old acoustic guitar, I didn't even know what kind it was, I picked out the opening bars of the only song I knew how to play. The one I'd taught myself just in case, the one for… Fuck. I grabbed the phone and dialed.

"Mmm… Hello?" a slightly groggy voice answered.

"Stronghold, where are you?" I asked sharply.

"I just dropped Layla home, I was just going to sl-" he broke off for a yawn, "sleep. What's wrong?"

"Fuck, I just…" I shook my head. "I need your help."

"Mmm?"

"I…sort of talked to Yuri and… Fuck." Staring at my feet, I sighed. "It's just… 'Boys are stupid, but you're not stupid, you're my friend'," I explained, hoping Will would get it.

"Oh."

"Yeah," I replied.

"…you have to sing to her," he said after a minute.

I blinked. Fuck. The bet. "No I don't."

"Yes," he said, "you do. I won."

Fuck. "No you didn't."

"You probably have a song all picked out for her already," he teased.

Fuck. "No I don't."

"Yes you do." He was laughing, I just knew it. My plight was somehow amusing to him.

"…no I don't." I was pouting. I could feel it. Fuck.

"So, what song is it?" he asked teasingly.

"…"

"Come on…"

"I'm not telling you," I replied. "And I'm hanging up now."

"Aww, come on Warren, don't be like-"

"Bye, Stronghold," I said, snapping the phone shut.

I sighed, knowing what I had to do and not liking it one bit.

Fuck.

**  
**

I stared at my phone, sitting on the dashboard of my Piece of Shit car, and sighed. Fiddling with the guitar in my hands, I reached for the phone and dialed a familiar number…then cancelled the call.

"Fuck."

Grabbing the guitar and slipping it in its case, I exited my crappy car and locked the doors. Staring up at the house, I sighed again. Walking around to the back was easy enough, and finding a way into the yard was easy, too. Now…climbing the tree up to the attic balcony with the guitar and my phone without falling to my death would be a little trickier.

Swearing under my breath, I hoisted myself up to the first gnarled branch of the oak and held my breath. I didn't fall. Thankful for the strap which allowed me to buckle the guitar to my back, I climbed the tree. It took a while, but I did it. And when I got to the top, wheezing slightly, I felt very pleased with myself. Pulling myself over the balcony railing was a piece of cake in comparison.

I thanked whatever higher powers were smiling at me for Yuri actually being home, if the light in her room was any indication, and caught my breath. Staring at my phone again, I sighed heavily. Picking up the guitar again, sans case, I perched comfortably on the railing and dialed Yuri's cell. She answered after two rings.

"Hello?"

I took a deep breath. This was it.

"_Late at night you call on the phone_," I begin, a capella, nervous. I hear my voice waver.

"_We talk about the day when you found out he was cheating._"

"Warren, what-" she begins.

I cut her off. This was important.

"_You tell me that it hurts to the bone,_

_To trust someone that way, to find that he was deceiving._"

"Warren, I'm serious, what are you-"

"_And I know I've always just been a friend_

_But if you look my way I'll make sure you never hurt again…_

"Look out your window," I tell her, snapping my cell shut.

She lifts the curtains and I wonder how I must look to her. Me, with my leather jacket and ripped jeans, sitting here on the edge of her balcony with a crappy acoustic guitar in my hands. And she looks at me, confused, hesitant. Then she turns the doorknob and steps outside, and I strum the first chord.

"_Do you know I exist just to promise you this?_

_Endlessly to be true to you,_" I sang softly, looking away from her face to make sure my fingers are in the right places. They were, I thanked God for small favors.

Yuri shut the balcony door, leaning against it. She was wearing the same candy-cane sweatpants and Oscar the Grouch tank as the night, when I thought about it, that all of this started.

"_And if you answer my prayer, I cross my heart and I swear,_

_Endlessly to be true to you_."

She stood there. Her hair was down, and damp. I wondered if she'd just been in the shower. I wondered if she ever wondered about me. I wondered why it took me so long to realized why I wondered about her.

"_And if you'd only see how beautiful you and I would be_…" I hit a particularly finger-bending chord and was proud of myself.

"_Endlessly._"

She kept staring at me, this unreadable expression on her face, but I'd come this far and wasn't about to stop. Even though I was nervous as hell. I wasn't about to chicken out on this.

"_Sometimes the thing you need is the one thing you can't see,_

"_If you put your faith in me…_"

I couldn't believe it took me so long to realize why I smiled more when she was around. Why the sun shone brighter and the stars were twinklier and all that lovey-dovey shit. And I really mentally kicked myself for it taking a full four months.

"_How beautiful you and I would be…_"

Yuri shivered, leaning against the doorframe. Light spilling out behind her, with the moon in her hair. And I couldn't tell what she was thinking or what was going on in her mind, and it sort of scared me. It sort of _terrified_ me.

"_Do you know I exist just to promise you this?_

_Endlessly to be true to you."_

I smiled wryly, glancing down every few seconds to make sure my fingers were in the right places on the guitar, or maybe anything to avoid that look in her eyes. Or maybe I _was_ chickening out. I didn't know.

"_And if you answer my prayer, I cross my heart and I swear,_

_Endlessly to be true to you_."

I looked up again. She hadn't moved since stepping outside. She just stared at me, the corners of her mouth curved slightly upward, with that quiet, penetrating gaze she reserved for concentrating on something really hard without looking like it.

"_And if you'd only see how beautiful you and I would be…_"

Time sort of froze for a minute. After that next word, chord, whatever, I'd be finished and she'd say whatever was on her mind. A part of me really didn't want to know what her answer was because, hey, ignorance is bliss. The other part of me, the one that wanted to know, was going to have a nervous breakdown or something really, really soon. And both parts knew that the inevitable was coming.

"…_endlessly_."

There was a sort of prolonged silence as that last note rang out and faded. Then Yuri started walking toward me, arms wrapped around herself and shivering a little, as a slow smile spread across her face. You could have knocked me over with a feather. I grinned back, hopping down to put the guitar away and shrugging out of my jacket. When she came to lean against the railing with me, I wrapped the familiar leather around her shoulders and smiled. That's what she would look like wearing _my _jacket. Like a letterman's jacket, but better.

"Warren Peace," she said, looking amused, "when did you learn how to play the guitar?"

I smiled sheepishly. "Well, I really only know that one song…"

"Oh." The corners of her mouth quirked upwards again. "What made you want to learn _that _song?"

I shrugged. "It was a good song." _It reminded me of you. Of us. Of what we are, what I kind of, sort of wanted us to be._

"Oh." Yuri tilted her head slightly to the left, confused. "Is that all?"

_No, not really. I want you to realize what I'm trying to say here, without saying anything at all. Because that just wouldn't be me, would it? To go chasing a girl. I guess. But if you realized it on your own and, you know, that might work._ I smiled a smile that might have been a smirk. "Isn't it obvious?"

I brushed my fingers against her cheek. "How beautiful you and I would be…"

Realization hit. Her eyes widened and a barely audible gasp escaped her throat and Yuri looked at me with a look I'd never seen before. Uncertainty?

"What?" I asked, nervous again. Because this was definitely not going according to plan. By now, I supposed, she'd be falling in my arms saying that, wow, she'd had a crush on me since we first met in the cafeteria and, geez, what took me so long? Then we might have a nice, long, cheesy fairy tale kiss. Unfortunately, life seemed to be intent on kicking my ass because she just kept staring at me like I'd grown an extra head and she couldn't quite believe it.

"I…" Yuri blinked…a few times. "I… What?" she asked, confused.

"You _know _what," I said softly, finding my shoes very interesting. "You don't need to ask."

"I know…I just-" she stopped abruptly. "I don't…_understand_."

I sighed. It looked like this was to be a total confession. Great. "It's not that hard to understand," I explained. "I…kind of like you…as more than a friend." I mentally kicked myself for sounding stupid. "And I was just wondering if maybe…um…you felt the same way."

She hesitated for a moment, before opening her mouth, and I knew. It was kind of like falling off a cliff in slow motion. You know? Where everything is sort of going to shit and there's nothing you can do about it but fall and _goddamnit _you want to do something to stop it, to do it over, to rewind and make it so whatever you fucked up _doesn't_ happen again, but you know there's absolutely nothing that _can _stop you from falling into that oblivion and you just have to take it. And…

"Warren…I-" She bit her lip. "I'm…I'm sorry…I- I just-"

Fuck.

I bent down to pick up the guitar case. "It's okay." I busied myself with hauling the damn thing over my shoulder. "Really." Even though it wasn't. It really wasn't.

"Warren, let me-"

"No, really. I'm fine." I straightened up and looked her in the eye, the embodiment of composure. "It's okay." I swung a leg over the railing and reached for the nearest tree branch.

"But-"

"Don't worry, I'm fine." Even though I wasn't. I really, _really_ wasn't. "I'll see you tomorrow," I called, sliding down the tree and hoping I didn't fall and break my neck. Of course, it would only be another thing on the list of injuries I'd acquired that day. Right next to wounded pride and…well, broken heart, I guess. Fuck, life was a bitch.

I walked to my car and didn't look back. Yuri didn't come out looking for me, so I guess she wasn't that torn up about it or didn't realize how much I actually liked her. Either way, nothing I could do about it.

_Fuck._

I started the ignition and shifted into drive.

Resisting the urge to punch the dash, _hard_, I sighed and pulled away from the curb.

My life sucked.

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Wow. It took me forever to pick a song, guys. First it was "Your Song" by Elton John with modified lyrics (I still have them on my computer somewhere), then it was "Waiting for You" by Richard Marx. And…BAM. I couldn't even remember this song until I was talking to my friend and asked her about it. It was a feat of brilliance that she could tell me what the song was without me knowing the lyrics, melody, or title.

Anyway. One chapter le-eft. Coolio. I guess. Don't worry. Warren's life won't suck forever. I promise. It'll just suck until…I get around to writing/editing/posting the final chapter. Which may take anywhere from a few days to three months, as we've seen before. Sorry.

Thanks to **Fuzzy Makes Me Happy**, **Off Dreaming**, and **Horsebookworm** for their reviews! And also to everyone else who reads.

Ta!

Love, SeraphStar.


	11. Make it Right: Yuri

**AN: **W00t. I finally finished it. Oh My God, this chapter was a bitch to write. Mostly because of the Ironic Over-Power kicking my ass with this particular scenario. Standard disclaimer applies. Yadda yadda yadda. Enjoy!

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**Make it Right: Yuri**

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_Oh God. Oh God, oh God, oh God. What have I done? Okay, no, wrong question. I know what I've done. I've just rejected Warren Peace. What am I _going _to do?_ I stood on the balcony, frozen, my mind still trying fruitlessly to process information. Warren Peace liked me. As in…ride off into the sunset on a friggin' white horse liked me. Since _when_? And why did it have to be my hott best guy friend. The one all the girls not in our circle are always saying I'm so lucky to spend time with? The one who's secretly the most crushed-on boy in school?

And why _me_? Of all people? We'd gone over it before. It's a proven fact. Guys don't ask me out. Or if they do, they sure aren't interested in my personality. And…seriously, was there something wrong with me? There I was, trying to figure out why guys and I just didn't work, relationship-wise, when I should have been trying to figure out what the hell I was going to say to Warren at school the next day.

Aw, shit. What the fuck was I going to say to Warren?

There was really only one thing to do in a situation like that. Sit and think. I couldn't call Layla because she'd be all '_Ohmigod! You guys are perfect and you just don't know it_' and Maj would be like '_Haha, Warren sang to you. That's funny_.' So I was really stuck by my lonesome, lying on my bed, and just feeling generally shitty.

There was, of course, the chicken shit option of just ignoring it and hoping that it went away. But we'd probably end up estranged and I'd lose a really good friend. Then I got to thinking about the 'friend' part of our relationship. I kind of liked the aspect of all my other, non-Sky High social group, friends would say 'wow, who's the hottie?' when seeing pictures of whatever random high school stunts we ended up commemorating on film. It was fun. Like, wow, I'm the cool girl with the hot guy friend. Insert smiley face.

And I got to wondering more about the why and when this whole Warren-crushing-on-me thing happened. Because, hey, even with female intuition, sometimes everyone is oblivious. God, had I been oblivious? Was it obvious to everyone _except_ me? And, if so, how stupid was I? But then, I couldn't call anybody because maybe nobody else knew and I really didn't need to deal with different opinions on the subject because I really didn't have one of my own yet. It would have been so much easier if I could just say 'I like him' or 'I don't like him.' But no, I was 'I really don't know because I've never actually thought about it and is that a sign that I don't like him or just a cover-up for the overly-cliché realization that I've liked him all along?' And it was really very, very irritating.

"Ugh." I shut my eyes tightly, trying to will myself into unconsciousness and failing miserably.

Shutting off the lights, I stared at the ceiling. Warren was so…hopelessly endearing when he wasn't about to kick you in the face and I didn't want to lose that, no matter what answer I gave him. I'd miss the way he'd smirk so infuriatingly when he knew something I didn't. Or how he'd wait for me to screw up and then chuckle quietly on the sidelines. And how he knows he's hot shit, but doesn't act like it, even though he could. Homework really wouldn't be the same without being able to call him about English and knowing he'd call about Math. And I sure as hell would miss punching him when he was stupid and watching while he pretended it didn't hurt because, unlike most guys, Warren's pretty good at it. So then I got to hit him twice. Then, somewhere between musing over the particular timbre of his voice and the exact shade of chocolate-y goodness in his eyes, I sat bolt upright in bed.

"Aw, _shit_."

Okay. Okay, I could handle. I could. I _really _could. I mean, people get crushes every day. I mean, individual people don't get daily crushes, but people in general are always falling in and out of love. So really, this wasn't a big deal. Really.

"Oh God, kill me now."

Well…so maybe it was a big deal. Because I was pretty sure the boy who was crushing on me that I realized I was now crushing on probably didn't want to see me, since I didn't say anything really coherent when he told me. If that made sense at all. So that put me pretty low on the friend-o-meter. Well, or the people-in-general-o-meter. Whichever way you looked at it.

"Aaaugh."

And I certainly couldn't call anyone at all for help dealing with the colossal epiphany of realizing that I was totally crushing on my best guy friend, on account of my being generally shitty to said friend. And having to see him in school the next day. And _still_ not knowing what the hell I was going to say to him. Maybe I wouldn't have to say anything. Maybe I could just…avoid him until I thought of something really good to say and thus redeem myself in his eyes. And then we'd proceed to a very nice make-up session, perhaps involving kissing, among other things. Insert mental leer. Pshyeah. Right.

"Mushrooms on a pogo stick."

Life was _such_ a bitch.

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Okay, so I totally chickened out of talking to Warren at school. I'm not stupid. That's a lot of embarrassment, on both sides, without the added pressure of peers watching your every move. So I skipped out at lunch and went to Subway, eat fresh.

Upon arriving home, I dutifully threw my book bag on the couch and forgot about it. Muttering a quick prayer for anti-stupidity, I grabbed Warren's jacket off my bed and headed back out the door. I was quite aware of the fact that it was drizzling slightly when I got off the bus. But realizing I had to _walk _the mile or so as I had no car and no license and I certainly wasn't going to teleport if I didn't know _exactly_ where I was going, that sucked.

Taking a deep breath, I grabbed an umbrella and started off.

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Thankful the drizzle had stopped, I concentrated on looking at street addresses. I stopped in front of 3867 Seaview Crest, and looked up. Staring at the house, I was pleasantly surprised. I'd always pictured Warren living in an apartment with just his mom. But there was an empty three-car garage and Warren's bike parked out on the driveway. Not to mention a child's bicycle and a couple of scooters on the front lawn.

As I was about to start up the walkway, a blond ten-year old shot out the front door, two younger brunettes in tow, grabbing the various child-oriented modes of transportation. "C'mon guys! We havta meet Aunt Lynn at the park! She's gonna teach us to do wheelies!" Gleeful squeals ensued as they raced off down the street.

Looking after them, I smiled slightly. Then, taking another deep breath, I walked up to the door and knocked.

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I read the surprise on his face when he opened the door. "Hey," he said quietly.

"Hey." I looked up at him; God, he was tall. "Um, how are you doing?"

"Fine." A short, awkward silence permeated the air. "Uh, we missed you at lunch today."

"I know," I shrugged. "I cut to eat off campus. Cafeteria food is only tolerable so much of the time."

Warren smirked. "Don't I know it."

"So…" I peered into the house. It kind of reminded me of my cousin's house. With lots of family pictures and children's toys on the floor, not to mention the frumpy couch just perfect for kids to bounce on.

Warren coughed. "What are you doing here?"

"I uh," I smiled sheepishly, holding up his jacket. "I came to return this."

He regarded me critically, left eyebrow raised. "Oh."

"Because you, um, left it at my house." I shifted uneasily from foot to foot, handing it to him.

"Well," he took the jacket and tossed it inside. "Thanks."

"No problem." I opened my mouth and shut it quickly. "Um."

"Yeah?"

"Can I…can I come in?" I looked nervously up at Warren, biting my lip.

He stared at me for a moment before stepping aside. "Yeah, sure."

I trailed after him, taking in the place. There was that ugly messenger bag he insisted on carrying to school (though I know Layla bought him a backpack for Christmas). His motorcycle gloves were tossed on a coffee table along with his keys and wallet. As I looked around, Warren picked up his jacket and gestured for me to follow him.

Up a wooden staircase, we entered a room near the end of a corridor. Most definitely a boy's room. His guitar rested on a stand in a corner along with some textbooks. A bookshelf (everything in alphabetical order) lined one wall while posters of his favorite bands and movies lined another. I laughed. Warren even had a comic-book era Spider-Man poster signed by Peter Parker himself, something, I realized, that must have been handed down from his grandfather.

Warren caught me looking at his poster.

"Like that?" he asked, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

I nodded. "Yeah. I mean, how did you get a poster signed by _the_ Spider Man?"

Warren shrugged. "Ebay."

Oh. …well it _could_ have been handed down from his grandfather.

"So, what did you want?" Warren flopped onto his bed, staring up at me as I sat in his desk chair.

"I uh…" I stood up slowly and moved to sit next to him on the bed.

Warren sat up quickly. "Whoa."

"What?"

"I didn't say anything, go on," he prompted.

"No, you distinctly said 'whoa'. What kind of 'whoa' was that?" I asked.

"It wasn't any kind of whoa. It was just…never mind. Go on."

I rolled my eyes at him. "I wanted to apologize."

He just sort of looked at me like I'd turned purple. "What for?"

"For yesterday."

"You didn't do anything," he pointed out.

"Yeah, I know. That's what I'm apologizing for." Opting for staring at my hands instead of Warren's face, I twiddled my thumbs. "Because…I really didn't know what to say."

"Mmhmm." He flopped back on the bed and sighed. "So do you know what to say now?"

I turned to look at him. "Not exactly."

"Well, then you came all this way for nothing, hmm?" Warren gave me a wry smile. "Really, I'm a big kid," he mumbled, smile going crooked.

I suppressed a grin. There were butterflies in my stomach. "That's not what I meant," I replied, flipping onto my stomach so we were eye-level. I hoped I wasn't blushing.

Warren propped himself up on his elbows. "So, what did you mean?"

I couldn't look straight at him, so I settled for somewhere around his mouth. "I didn't know…I just wasn't processing information last night, okay? My brain just completely shut down and I totally just…I don't know. And I…" Just then, I made the mistake of looking at his eyes. And I couldn't talk anymore. Because he was looking at me with a hint of a smile on his face and the breeze from the open window blowing his hair into his eyes. I couldn't help it, I smiled.

"And?"

I leaned over and lightly kissed his cheek, smiling against his skin. He pulled away, startled. Looking up into those eyes, I shrugged. "Second chance?"

Warren raised an eyebrow and smirked. "What makes you think you deserve a second chance?"

"Because I'm saying please?" I glanced up at him hopefully. "Because…I want to find out…"

"Find out?" He rolled over to look me in the eye. "Find out what?"

I turned away for a moment, knowing that I was definitely blushing. "_How beautiful you and I would be_," I sang softly.

Something in me melted when I worked up the courage to peek up at him. Grinning from ear to ear and looking sexy as sin, Warren leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. "Second chance."

I felt the smile stretch my face. More so when Warren sat up and gestured for me to scoot over. Settling myself in the crook of his arm as we sat against the headboard, I was utterly content.

"Warren?"

He tilted his head down toward me. "Hmm?"

I raised myself ever so slightly and kissed him, for real. In between the fireworks and the butterflies, the delicious sensation of someone's fingers in your hair, and the all-around magic of a first kiss with someone you care about, I realized how very wonderful it felt to be warm after being cold for a very long time and not knowing it. Then Warren wrapped his arms around me and it didn't really matter what I was before, just what I was then: utterly content.

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We showed up at school hand in hand. Layla squealed. Maj snickered. Zach seemed to be in shock while Ethan wisely chose not to react outwardly. Will, however, smirked. Then, Warren punched him in the shoulder. I rolled my eyes. Aah, high school.

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Ye-Ah! I am pau. And it feels good. It's kind of sad, these people started to grow on me. But, alas, this is my farewell to chapter stories in the Sky High-dom. One-shots may still be forthcoming. (I'm always up for challenges.)

Thank yous to…

**Readerfreak10:** have I redeemed myself for being mean to Warren?

**west trekker:** Thanks. Originally, I was going to make it all fairy-tale-y with no intermittent drama. Then I decided it didn't really work.

**Off Dreaming: **OMG! Clay Aiken. Squee. My favorite Adult Contemp artist. Teehee.

**Kris932:** Much thanks. Did the final installment live up to expectations?

**horsebookworm**: Last one, hope you likey. :insert smiley:

Also, thank you to all the lurkers who read.

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Much love,

**SeraphStar**


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